


What Came Before He Knew Her

by epcot97



Series: What Came Before He Knew Her [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adventure & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Marichat, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-12 14:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 80
Words: 167,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epcot97/pseuds/epcot97
Summary: Adjusting to his new life as a super hero, Chat Noir is drawn irresistibly to his super hero companion, Ladybug. But as they begin to find their way together – first as partners, then as friends – Chat becomes increasingly conflicted when he unexpectedly discovers mounting feelings for his alter-ego's classmate, Marinette.   MariChat aplenty.





	1. Chat’s Really Bad, No Good, Terrible Day

**Author's Note:**

> So, first, some background.
> 
> As I started my very first story in the MLB universe, _Elegy for a Chat_, I found myself creating backstories and events to help understand the motivations of Chat and Ladybug as they worked their way through that adventure. Most of them were one-off shorts, not likely to be included as part of the main plot of that story, but still interesting enough to me (as a writer) that I jotted them down for reference. Suddenly, in March of 2019, I found I had several chapters worth of material and a tenuous thread to connecting them all together. I'm also ashamed to admit that I was new enough in the fandom that I'd unintentionally stumbled my way into a pretty interesting Marichat scenario without realizing what I was doing. But I learn fast. ;-) 
> 
> The first thirty-two chapters originally appeared elsewhere and I have added them here for completeness sake; starting with Chapter 33, I will cross post new content on my platforms. For this seems to be a story that just won't quit.
> 
> I am pulling the Author's Prerogative Card and using the episode production order, and not the order of airing, as cannon. This particular story starts fairly early in S1 as our duo are feeling their way - as both heroes and, possibly, something more.

It was shaping up to be a really, _really _bad day.

I thought It had started well enough. The Mayor had commissioned a statue in the park to commemorate Paris’s two newest superheroes, and I’d snuck out of fencing practice to attend the formal unveiling with Ladybug. She hadn’t appeared, though, leaving me to try and entertain the crowd and the very wound up sculptor, Theo. Things started to go downhill when Theo confided that he was smitten with Ladybug and the jealousy monster within this cat reared its ugly head; I might have led him to believe I’d already occupied that spot in her heart.

I could see right away that I’d crushed him, badly, but at the time didn’t really care. I was having my own troubles trying to woo Ladybug and frankly didn’t need the competition. He left the park rather dejectedly, and I had I been thinking clearly, would’ve immediately recognized how much more trouble he would be later. Instead, I’d made my way back to fencing practice and finished out the session with no one the wiser.

The second indicator that the day was going south came up after I returned to the mansion. I’d been unpacking my gym bag and discovered my phone was missing. It was a little odd since I usually kept good track of it – my whole life was on it, after all – but even after interrogating Plagg, it appeared I’d somehow lost it back at the gym. I wound up forcing Nathalie to send for my bodyguard, who in turn drove me back to the gym.

The third indicator that the rest of the day was not going to go according to any plan at all came as we were driving. I’d been watching the news network on the tiny screen embedded into the back of the driver’s seat; my jaw dropped when they cut to a breaking story and ran video of me – or rather, Chat Noir – ransacking the Louvre and taking off with a priceless painting. I was pretty sure I’d been elsewhere at the time and immediately assumed Hawkmoth had launched another villain at us.

I’d left my bodyguard at the curb and ran back into the gym; deciding my missing phone was a lower priority, I’d instead used the quiet locker room to quickly transform to Chat Noir and took off for the Louvre. Something in the back of my head was warning me that I’d probably should have cross checked with Ladybug, but another part of me was a tiny bit upset she’d stood me up at the dedication.

Landing on the roof of the glass pyramid, I’d slid down to find all of Paris’s Finest pointing their weapons at me. With a bit of sweet talking, I’d managed to convince Officer Raincomprix I wasn’t the Chat Noir they were looking for and to let me take a look at the scene. I was so intent on clearing my name, I didn’t see it for the trap it was and wound up physically locked up in the gallery – but not before I’d found a straw-like swizzle stick very similar to the one that Theo had been chewing on at the dedication.

One Cataclysm later and I was a fugitive from justice myself. The fourth indicator that I was in serious trouble came when the entire Paris Police Force came after me, helicopters and all. That seemed like a good time to finally check in with Ladybug to let her know I was on the trail of the imposter Chat Noir, but the gathering troops had forced me to cut the call short – but not before she’d tried to talk me out of going it alone.

I managed to evade the officers by ducking into the Metro and transforming back to Adrien. Plagg had confirmed my suspicion regarding the swizzle stick: Theo had to have become Hawkmoth’s latest akumatized victim. I knew then that it was my white lie about my relationship with Ladybug that had created the mess. It only seemed right that I’d have to now clean it up.

I let Plagg recharge with the emergency Camembert I kept on hand. When he’s had just enough, I transformed back to Chat Noir and started searching for Theo’s workshop. It had seemed like a logical place to start, and I managed to get a glance at the advertisement he’d shown me at the dedication – the gallery address had been listed prominently but wasn’t in a part of Paris I’d been to recently.

As I covered the distance, I realized I was pretty upset at myself for how I’d handled the whole situation. Yes, I was in love with Ladybug; that didn’t mean others couldn’t be, too. It had been unfair of me to mislead Theo, no matter how my jealous heart tried to justify it. I’d have to somehow make him see reason without hurting either one of us further.

Landing on the rooftop and peering down through the skylight, it had been easy to confirm I was in the right spot. I’d called Ladybug again to let her know I was going in to confront Theo, but had insisted to her I could handle it on my own – no need for her to get involved – and clicked off before she could say anything further on the matter. Honestly, I didn’t want her to know I had lied about our relationship – at least, not until I’d had a chance to try and repair the damage.

That led to the final indicator that my day was not going to turn out well.

I’d found a cute porcelain kitty sculpture atop a crate, with a card addressed to Chat Noir. Now, any _normal_ superhero would have been immediately suspicious, but having only been in the gig for a few weeks at that point, I was still learning the warning signs that I was in danger (I direct your attention to the Louvre incident earlier in the day). Being a complete idiot, I picked up the note and in short order found my wrists cuffed to a long chain running through an anchor firmly bolted to the studio floor. 

Moving one wrist up required moving the other down, making movement nearly impossible. The chain was also short enough to prevent me from moving too far from the anchor. I tried some of my super strength and couldn’t budge the anchor at all, and started to feel the swell of panic in my chest. 

That’s when my mistakes increased geometrically, ultimately revealing just how much of a rookie I was.

I made matters much worse by immediately calling up Cataclysm with the intent of freeing myself from the chains. Being Chat Noir was still new for me, and I hadn’t completely become attuned to the enhanced senses that came with it; in that moment, I was so focused on freeing myself I wasn’t paying attention to my feline ears. As my hand came down, Copycat grabbed me from behind and with super strength equal to my own, redirected my Cataclysm to piece of plywood. I watched in horror as it dissolved instead, simultaneously starting the five-minute timer to my de-transformation.

My heart was beating so hard in my ears I missed the first part of what Copycat said as he danced around me, and I saw my doppelgänger in full for the first time. It wasn’t an exact mirror, of course; his voice still sounded like Theo, but everything else, down to the Miraculous on his hand was identical. I reached for my baton, trying to twist around the chains, only to find that I’d also missed him removing it.

“Looking for this? Which one should I pick up? My one or _my _one?” he taunted me, holding up what I presume was his version, and what I now knew was mine.

Mine rang. Copycat clicked it open and in a fair approximation of my own voice, told Ladybug he’d captured the culprit. It was almost exactly what I had planned on saying myself. 

“Don’t come here, Ladybug! It’s a trap!” I yelled, but Theo had snapped the phone shut before Ladybug could hear.

“Too late,” Copycat purred. “Ladybug’s on her way, and that was my plan all along.”

“She won’t be duped,” I said. “She knows me too well,” I added, hoping that was as true as it sounded.

“I know you well, too,” he said, pulling out the photo of Ladybug he’d shown me back at the dedication. My eyes widened - it was purple-toned now, meaning the akuma was hiding within it. “And from now on, she’ll love me, not you!”

I blinked. “Love me?” Yes, this day was thoroughly going down the tubes. “Ahh, you’re right! That’s why she’ll be able to reveal your true identity!”

That seemed to get under his collar as he used one of our staffs to knock me to my back. In another moment, he’d harshly raised my ring hand with an iron grip around my wrist, driving my opposite hand into the ground, hard. The fact that I found myself looking directly up at… myself… was almost surreal.

The day bottomed out with Ladybug arriving and finding me there, on the floor, about to lose my Miraculous, and quite possibly my gig as one of Paris’s protectors. The flame of embarrassment touched my cheeks as she knelt over me, confusion reigning on her face as she looked to me and then Copycat.

“Chat Noir,” she said to Copycat, “he looks just like you!”

“That’s because I _am_ me!” I said, but given my position, she deferred to Copycat. I could feel the red on my cheeks going to deep scarlet. So much for taking care of my own problem.

“Where’s his akuma?” I heard her ask Copycat.

“In his ring, of course.”

As she leaned in to start to slide it off my finger, my heart sank completely. I couldn’t believe she thought _I _was the villain. But then again, I suppose I’d triggered the whole thing in the first place…

At that moment, one of the pads on the ring chirped and went away. Perplexed, Ladybug observed: “He even has the same powers as you…”

Copycat said something, but an idea had suddenly popped into my brain. “Look, if you don’t believe I’m the real Chat Noir,” I said, “ask him about our love for each other.”

She stopped and stared at me. “Uhhh…”

That was my only chance, as much as it hurt to pursue it. “Would I ever lie to you, bugaboo?” I asked, with a wink and a Chat smile.

Ladybug turned back to Copycat, and leaned in close. “I hope you didn’t tell him about us,” she said sweetly.

“What?” he said, thrown a bit.

“That we made a secret promise?”

“Uh… yes!” he lied, “of course!”

Ladybug sat back up. “We never made a promise,” she said, “Copycat!”

“I love you, Ladybug! I’m way better than this mangy alley cat!”

“Sorry,” she said firmly. “Liars are losers. Chat Noir may annoy me to pieces, but he’s never lied to me.”

I started to breath a bit easier. “Thanks for the compliment – I think…”

The rest was bit of a blur. Copycat triggered his version of Cataclysm, but Ladybug deftly maneuvered him into taking out the chains; I kept him busy with hand-to-hand combat while she figured out what to do with her Lucky Charm. That was easier said than done as Copycat had _identical _abilities. At length we managed to free the akuma and release its spell over Theo.

As he recovered on the floor of his studio, I turned to Ladybug and said, “I’m so glad you could tell the real cat from the fake one.”

That was when the day went totally dark, for Ladybug responded with: “Once I figured out which cat was really in love with me, it was a no-brainer.”

The force of her words hit me as if they’d been physical. I may have even taken a slight step backward from her. Fortunately, my ring let out it’s final warning chirp, allowing me to escape with what little dignity I now had. “Better help the fellow out,” I said. “His crush just got crushed.” 

I turned away and as I started to spring out the skylight, adding quietly: “That makes two of us.”

Scampering a few alleys away, I dropped my transformation and plied Plagg with enough cheese that I could resume being Chat Noir to get back to the gym and finally search for my phone, all the while trying hard not to think about how badly I had mishandled the day. Once back at the gym, I stayed as Chat long enough to scour the locker room with my faster feline reflexes, but came up empty in the phone department. Dejectedly I transformed back to Adrien and exited the gym, where my patient bodyguard was still waiting for me at the curb.

I stared out the window, finally alone with my thoughts and forced to return to those final, painful words from Ladybug. How could she _not_ know I loved her? I felt like I’d made it obvious each time I was with her. Was I no more to her than her sidekick, throwing myself in front of any danger that threatened her?

I smirked a little at that, since I often found myself taking a beating in an attempt to give her more time to get her Lucky Charm going. But I’d willingly do it again and again to make sure my lady was safe. I couldn’t believe she didn’t see that.

Fortunately, the next day turned out to be far better.

My thoughts hadn’t improved by the time I’d returned to school the following day, though. Even Nino thought something was off, which was not good since _Adrien_ had no reason to be feeling lovelorn at the moment. I tried to channel some of my supermodel talents and fake a normal smile, but he remained concerned as we took our seats in class. I decided to try and blame it on my missing phone.

“I haven’t found it yet,” I told him. “I had it when I went to fencing practice yesterday, but it vanished after that. I’ve searched everywhere for it.”

“Maybe you dropped it somewhere,” he offered.

“Well, if I did, someone found it in the boys’ locker room. I was checking my voicemail in there during practice – that was the last time I saw it.”

At that moment, Marinette made an unusual motion behind me. I’m not sure anyone else would have seen it, but after yesterday’s disaster, I’d started paying attention to all of my senses, both in and out of the costume. I turned toward her, a quizzical expression on my face, and started to ask if she was ok.

My bookbag took that moment to fall over and empty it’s contents on the ground. I snapped my head around and down, and there, on top of my physics notebook, was my phone.

“What?” I heard myself say, as I bend over and retrieved the phone. “I looked there a thousand times!”

Nino chuckled. “Dude, you need some time off.”

As I put my bookbag back together, I could have sworn I’d seen a look pass between Alya and Marinette. I filed that away for later and snapped the satchel closed.

“Well,” I said, “glad to have it back.” I slid it into my pocket as the teacher had started the lesson.

Classwork was routine but engaging, and lunch appeared suddenly. I headed for the waiting sedan to whisk me back to the mansion for lunch, and pulled out the phone while enroute. There were a ton of missed calls – many from my home phone, when I’d been trying to locate it – and that unknown number that had piqued my curiosity yesterday in the locker room. On a whim, I redialed it.

It rang several times, before I thought I heard Ladybug’s voice. “Hello?” she said.

“Uh, hi,” I started, unsure of how to proceed. “Uh, this number called me yesterday and I was just returning the call. Who is this?”

“Adrien?” There was a pause. “It’s Marinette!”

“Marinette?” I felt an eyebrow going up. I would’ve sworn it had been Ladybug, but maybe Nino was right – between Chat Noir, school and fencing, I was burning the candle at both ends. “How is it I don’t have you in my phonebook?” I asked, laughing. “I’ll fix that now. What did you need?”

She paused again. “Uh, I don’t remember now,” she said. “But if I do, I’ll call you again.”

“All right,” I said pleasantly. “See you this afternoon.”

I clicked off, and then paused. There had been a voicemail from that number, too. I flipped over to the messaging system, but the inbox was completely empty.

The recently deleted items folder, however, was not.

I opened the folder, and there was the message I’d seen yesterday at the gym. I pressed listen and held the phone to my ear.

“Uh, hello. Uh, Adrien’s voicemail, this is Marinette, who, uh, has a message for you, of course, cause it’s your phone so, um, hah! Hah! Call me! See you later!”

I found myself smiling. It was totally Marinette. I was about to click out when I realized I heard background noise, and kept listening. I think I heard the phone being tossed and then, faintly, Marinette’s voice again. 

_Oh my God. She didn’t know it was still recording._

“What? What did you expect me to say?” came the distance but chirpy voice. “’Hey, hot stuff, this is Marinette, I’d like to ask you on a date to a movie but I’ve got such a crazy crush on you that the only way I can talk to you without foaming at the mouth is over this stupid phone.’ Pretty ridiculous, right?”

Another voice, even fainter. Was that Alya? “Hit two! Hit two!”

The message ended.

I pulled the phone from my ear, stunned. Marinette likes _me_? Adrien? Sure, I liked her quite a bit myself, but nothing beyond the casual friend level. Although now that I thought about it, she did seem to always find a way to be in the same group I was in, or fortuitously wind up being the partner I was assigned to for school projects. And Alya always seemed to be setting up foursomes with her and Nino, pairing me with Marinette.

I smacked my head. Not only was I blind as Chat Noir, I’d been blind as Adrien, too. I’d been seeing love with Ladybug where none apparently existed, and ignoring love from the place I least expected it.

_Huh_, I thought. _What an odd love triangle._ But I smiled, genuinely for the first time in a bit. 

_It’s nice to know someone cares, though_.

Something clicked in my brain, and I realized I was going to need to sort all of this out. I just didn’t have the first clue how to go about doing it.


	2. Noir Valentine

The worst part was, I couldn’t remember half of what had happened.

It was some weeks after our run in with Copycat, and the nightmares had subsided just a bit (although even the thought of a ceramic kitten had me breaking out into a cold sweat). I was still no further along in my grand scheme to convince Ladybug that I was her one and only Chat and had landed on Valentine’s Day thoroughly depressed.

I could remember writing my love sonnet to Ladybug, but I’d grown unhappy with what I’d created and crumpled it into the trash at school. But the card I was holding in my hand had clearly been written by someone who’d read what I’d put down on that white lined paper, and the tiny ladybug that had crawled out across the words had made my heart leap. 

Somehow, Ladybug had found my love poem? And had _responded_?

I looked at Plagg who was absolutely no help at all. “It has to be from her,” I said anxiously. “But how does she know my real identity?”

“You’re making some assumptions, Adrien,” he said as he popped the fifth (or sixth? I’d lost count) slice of Camembert into his mouth. Apparently I’d used Cataclysm earlier, which was another little something I couldn’t remember. 

At least, not clearly. I did remember, to my horror, possibly saying some very un-Adrien like (and un-Chat like for that matter) things to Ladybug. “What exactly happened to me out there?” I asked Plagg, pointedly. “I remember starting to tell Ladybug how I felt about her; the rest is a blur until I think she kissed me...”

I looked at Plagg again, expectantly. “She _did_ kiss me, right?”

He sighed, almost as if he knew this conversation would go around in circles until he’d given me something. “Yes,” he said at last. “It’s what broke you free from the akuma spell.”

I plopped down dejectedly into my seat at the computer. “So I did say all of that, then.”

Plagg remained silent, but the answer was clearly visible in his narrowed green eyes.

_Merde._

I buried my face in my hands. This was supposed to have been the day that I _finally_ told Ladybug how I felt, and instead I’d wound up mashing it up badly. I knew I didn’t mean any of what I had likely said while under the influence of the akuma, but I couldn’t be sure Ladybug wouldn’t think it had been buried deep within Chat and simply hidden behind my incessant flirting.

The room suddenly felt close, and I made a spur of the moment decision to get out and away from my thoughts. Plagg didn’t even have the chance to complain before I’d held out my ring: “Plagg - claws out!”

Savoring the experience of transforming just a little bit more than usual, I realized I’d been standing in the middle of my bedroom as Chat Noir with my eyes closed and had lost track of how long I’d been there. I rectified that by hurtling over my couch and out the open window, somersaulting over the fence surrounding the mansion and out into the early evening dusk. 

For once, I just simply prowled the night skies as Chat, letting my wilder side have reign with no other plan than to _not_ have a plan. The wind ruffled through my longer hair as I soared over rooftops and scampered across the sides of buildings headed nowhere in particular. It just felt _right_ being out in the night, and I breathed in the various exotic scents my feline nose was able to pick up.

It was still Valentine’s Day, of course, and it wasn’t lost on me that people were out and about with their special somebody, either enjoying the pleasant evening with a stroll along the river, or sitting down to one of Philippe’s masterful dishes at his bistro. I dropped to a cat crouch on a rooftop that looked across to an outdoor coffee café, and watched, entranced, as a couple sat at a round two-top. He was holding her hand and looking directly at her; she was returning the look with a smile that spoke to the deep relationship they shared.

If I squinted, I could almost imagine I was sitting there instead, with Ladybug at my side, sipping a cooling café au lait and gazing deeply into those deep, deep blue eyes. I’d give her my best Chat smile, crinkle my eyes, and sidle over to try and steal a kiss from those strawberry lips...

My eyes snapped open and I pulled myself out of my daydream, as my feline ears had picked up a particularly familiar _ziiiing! _noise, and it was heading for me. I turned my head slightly to watch as Ladybug gently dropped in next to me, then gracefully sat down in a single movement.

“Chat,” she said pleasantly. “Didn’t expect to see you out here tonight.”

“Nor I you, milady,” I said, faking the charm that I was nowhere near feeling. “I assumed you had plans this evening, so I took the opportunity to stretch my legs, as it were.”

“Funny,” she said, and I could see that quirk of a smile on her face. “I had much the same thoughts about you, Chat.” She stared out across the gathering night. “But no, no plans,” she said as wistfully as I thought I had ever heard her.

A feline ear perked up. _No plans? Does that mean...?_

“That surprises me, milady,” I replied, wondering if this was really the right time to be doing this. My heart was thumping as hard as my tail. “I realize after what I said today, I have little to no chance with you now, but I can’t imagine you don’t have other suitors in the wings.”

That made her snap her head around. “Oh, Chat!” she said, and placed a hand against my arm. “You were under the influence of the akuma; I knew that wasn’t really you.” She smiled warmly. “I have a pretty good idea where I stand with you.”

I let out the breath I was holding. “I can’t tell you how much better that makes me feel,” I said. “It’s been bothering me ever since I returned back to my --- uh, rather, since we parted this afternoon.”

Ladybug squeezed over and wrapped her other arm around me in a gentle hug. “Good,” she said. “But to answer your unspoken question... no, there isn’t anyone at the moment. I’m pretty much invisible to the one person I’d want most to see me.”

“Besides me,” I said, a tinge jealous of whoever she seemed to be pining away for.

She laughed. “I’ll _always _have you, Chat,” she smiled again. “Just not like that.”

I could feel my feline ears droop. “Oh,” was all I managed to get out.

Ladybug seemed to realize what she had said and tried to amend. “I didn’t mean it like that, Chat,” she started. “I value our relationship; your friendship means a lot to me.” She sighed. “But it's probably more important that we get the hang of this whole superhero gig before we start down any other paths together.”

_That _made me perk up a bit. “So you’re not writing me off, exactly,” I said, with the tiniest trace of hope.

“No, Chat, I’m not,” she said. “But I also don’t want you to get your hopes up, either.”

_Not a no! Not a no!_

I turned more toward her. “Do you like coffee, milady?”

Ladybug looked at me, puzzled. “Yes...?”

The plan came together in my brain quickly. “What would you like?” I asked as I stood up. “I’m going to run over to that café and get something.”

“Chat!” she said. “How are you going to do that?”

“Never mind that. What do you want?” I repeated

She thought for a moment. “Cafe mocha, double chocolate.”

That was funny. I’d been at the coffee shop close to the school earlier in the week with Nino, Alya and Marinette and one of them had ordered the exact same thing, though truth be told, I couldn’t recall which one. What were the odds?

I smiled. “No peeking,” I said to her as I started to climb over the edge. “My money is with my alter-ego.”

“Okay,” she agreed, and dutifully turned her back to the café.

I skulked down the side of the building and into the alley beside it, and dropped my transformation. I took the added precaution of walking all the way around the block and coming at the café from the wrong side, though I was pretty sure Ladybug would keep her promise.

The barista took my order and I put it on my personal credit card, hoping Father would miss the tiny transaction and the odd timing (since it was a school night). They packed our two coffees into a drink holder and I retreated back to the alley, donned Chat Noir once more, and masterfully clawed myself back to the rooftop one handed, while carefully balancing the drinks with the other.

Ladybug was still facing away from the café when I approached her. “For milady,” I said, as I handed her the steaming paper cup. The extra chocolate in it was assaulting my feline sense of smell enough that I had to take in a big whiff of my straight black house blend to clear my head.

She took the cover off and blew gently across the surface before sipping. “Mmm, not bad,” she said, closing her eyes and apparently savoring the flavor. “Thanks, Chat.”

“Well,” I said, grinning wildly. “It’s only right I give chocolate to the one I love, on Valentine's day.”


	3. Baked Goods

Almost a month later I was still finding myself grinning for no reason at all. I must have looked like I’d lost my mind at school, since Adrien wasn’t normally the one to walk into walls or closed doors, but I had done plenty of that since my impromptu Valentine’s Day coffee outing with Ladybug. I was still rational enough to realize that my status hadn’t really changed with her; I was simply reacting to the fact that she hadn’t exactly closed the door on me, either.

For now, that was a good enough start.

It was bad enough that my best friend, Nino, had been after me for weeks to explain myself. He finally cornered me in the library one afternoon. “Who is it, dude?” he asked as we continued our research for a paper we had to write on Baroque Music. 

“Who, what?” I replied, trying unsuccessfully to bob and weave.

“Adrien, dude, you’ve got it _bad_.”

I sat back from my tablet and stared into space. “I suppose I do,” I said, hearing it aloud for the first time.

“Who is it?” he asked again.

I was caught. Could I tell him without revealing too much? If I didn’t say anything, or lied, it would be worse. I stuck with the truth, as far as it went. “You’ll laugh at me,” I hedged, delaying the inevitable.

He sat down next to me. “Who. Is. It.”

I sighed. “Ladybug,” I admitted, feeling my cheeks bloom red.

Nino smiled widely. “You and about a million other guys in Paris,” he laughed, punching me in the arm. “But your head has been the clouds for sure, man. You’re gonna have to do something about it.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, partially thankful Nino assumed I was dealing with a fanboy crush. The reality was that I’d fallen for Ladybug, hard, the moment I set eyes on her, and those feeling hadn’t wavered in the months since.

But Nino was right – it was time to act. Or at least, ramp it up a bit. Running ideas past Nino was hazardous, and even if I’d wanted to, Marinette happened by our table with Alya, squashing any further girl talk.

Marinette said something to us, but I found myself staring at her blue eyes. They were a similar shade to Ladybug, which I’d never noticed before. That reminded me of the voicemail I’d uncovered from her. I hadn’t dealt with that yet, though it had helped to explain why she acted so strangely around me. And I knew I was paying more attention to her now than before, which seemed to have ratcheted up her nervousness around me.

“…tonight?” Alya was saying.

“Wha--?” I said, turning to Nino. 

“Movies. Tonight,” He said succinctly.

“Oh, ah, I can’t guys,” I said. “I’ve got a… thing tonight. Maybe a raincheck?”

“Me, too,” Marinette hastily added. “I’ve got to work in the Bakery.”

“It’s Friday!” Alya cried. “What is it with you two?”

“Sorry, guys,” I said as I cleared up my work to get ready for home. I smiled the charming Adrien smile and we parted ways for the weekend with a promise to join them at some future point.

As part of our attempt to grow into our abilities, Ladybug had decided it might be prudent for us to spend a few hours out on patrol each evening, barring any akuma emergencies that might crop up. I had readily agreed – spending any time with her was better than none at all – despite the fact it would put a crimp in my homework time and, possibly more alarming, my beauty rest. Or on this particular evening, spending social time with my friends from school.

Since Valentine’s Day, I’d taken to arriving early at our arranged upon meeting point with her café mocha (double chocolate) ready to go. It was a small thing, but it kept me connected to that special moment we’d shared. So far, she’d accepted my offering graciously. 

Tonight, though, I’d decided to up the ante. It was Saint Patrick’s Day, not something that we traditionally celebrated in France, but enough of a holiday that I thought I could get away with a little something extra for Ladybug. I rushed through the last of my homework, stuffed Plagg with an extra amount of Camembert so he could bear to get through my romantic intentions, and then impatiently waited for the clock on my phone to shift to 2000. 

“Plagg - claws out!”

The green flash of my transformation was still receding when I bolted from my bedroom a good hour earlier than necessary. I soared over the rooftops of Paris, headed for the Dupain-Chang Bakery and a batch of those insanely good macaroons Marinette frequently shared with our class. The Bakery was on the opposite side of the city from where I was supposed to meet Ladybug, so the extra time was necessary for me to keep my reputation intact for early arrivals. It was, however, extremely convenient to the mansion, so I made excellent time. It also meant it wouldn’t be unusual for Adrien to swing through on a random Friday evening.

I landed in an alleyway just to the side of the Bakery, and was about to transform to Adrien when I heard a startled gasp. I whirled around and there was Marinette, who had apparently been on the sidewalk outside the alley.

“Chat Noir?” she said. “Is something wrong?”

_Why did everyone always say that?_

“Uh... no, Mademoiselle... uh?” I feigned ignorance at who she was.

“Marinette,” she said. “You probably don’t remember me...”

“Ah, yes,” I said, grandly bowing and taking her hand into my paw, kissing it in the process. “How could I forget someone so beautiful?”

She slid her hand out of my grasp, almost with the same movement Ladybug often used. I was going to have to modify my approach. “Hah,” she said. “So if there’s no problem...” she said, although she did also take a quick look around just to confirm the sky wasn’t falling.

I often found that telling the truth, even selectively, helped in these sorts of situations. I smiled a Chat smile. “Actually, purrincess, I’m here to pick up some goodies for my sweetie.”

Her eyes widened. “You have a... sweetie?”

“Yes,” I said, accidently doing so with that dreamy expression I’d been fighting. I snapped back. “Well, technically it’s unrequited, but a cat can hope, right?” I winked to emphasize my point.

“Okay,” she said, a bit bemused.

“You’ve br-- I mean, I’ve been privileged to try the macaroons that your Bakery is known for,” I said, and then saw her eyes widen.

“You know about my family’s bakery?” she said.

_Aaargh! Adrien would know, not Chat._ “Yes,” I said, trying to dig myself out of the hole I was in. “It’s all they talk about at school.”

Her eyes went wider. “School? You’re a student at my school?”

_Aaaargh! Why am I melting down here? Another minute and she’ll have my shoe size._

I scratched the back of my neck, a move that brought a raised eyebrow from Marinette. “Well, hah hah, actually I’m kind of on a schedule...”

She glanced at her phone and jumped. “Good heavens, I’ve got something myself, too. Look, come on in and I’ll get your macaroons for you.” She grabbed me by the arm with more strength than I expected and dragged me directly into the store before I could say another word.

I blinked in the bright light of the cheery store, and breathed in the scents. I’d been here as Adrien before, of course, and had _planned_ on picking up the macaroons as him that evening. Especially since my wallet was literally in the other set of clothes. This was the first time I’d been there as Chat, though, and the overwhelming and overlapping panoply of flavors in the air froze me in the middle of the space with what I was sure was the wackiest cat grin ever displayed. I was still fine tuning my ability to interpret my enhanced feline senses, and this had just become the ultimate test.

It took me a minute – a _full minute_ \-- before I realized Marinette and her father had been staring at me, and may have even said something. I continued to smile, but felt embarrassment flaming on my cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “Your store smells... divine... and I’m in a bit of sensory overload.”

To her credit, Marinette smiled in her warm and generous way and came back around the counter, holding a box of wrapped macaroons. “That’s probably the nicest thing any customer has ever said to us,” she said, turning to her father. “Isn’t that true, Dad?”

He nodded. He appeared to be the strong, silent type, and was sizing me up. I was thinking the skintight black suit might not have been making a great first impression on him.

“Here you go,” she said, pressing the box into my hands. “Can I get you anything else? Coffee, perhaps?” she added, eyes sparkling.

“You sell coffee, too?”

“Best in Paris,” her father said. “My personal blend.”

“Uh, yes, then, one coffee, black. And one café mocha, double chocolate.”

Monsieur Dupain’s eyebrow shot up and he glanced toward his daughter. “We don’t get that order often,” he said pointedly. “Coming right up.”

Marinette ignored him. 

I pulled her to the side. “Look, uh, I can’t pay for these at the moment,” I said quietly. “It’s gonna sound like a line, but my cash is in my other, uh, outfit.”

“Chat, it’s on the house.” She smiled again as she returned to the counter and boxed up my coffee order for her dad. “All set!” she said as she slid it over to me.

“Thank you, Princess,” I said. “I owe you.”

“I’ll collect,” she said, with that same enigmatic smile she’d had before. “Stop by anytime.”

I thanked them again and bolted from the store. I’d spent way longer than I’d realized there and had very little time to get to my rendezvous with Ladybug. I arrived with only a few minutes to spare, and settled in to wait for her arrival.

Ladybug was uncharacteristically late, arriving a full ten minutes after the top of the hour. She dropped down beside me, breathless and carrying her own bag. “Sorry, Chat,” she said as she settled in. “I had to make a quick side trip and it took longer than I expected.”

She produced a square box from the Dupain-Chang Bakery.

“Huh,” I said, raising a masked eyebrow. “Great minds think alike,” I laughed as I produced my smaller box, and cracked it open to display the macaroons. “Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”

She started to laugh too. “I must have just missed you,” she chuckled as she cracked open her box. 

The luxurious smell of a chocolate-filled croissant wafted toward me. I sniffed again, and my eyes widened. “_Belgian_ chocolate?” I said. “How did you know--” I started, realizing abruptly I was about to reveal something about my alter-ego.

“Ladybug luck-y guess?” she answered, not very convincingly. “I could ask the same of you,” she said, pointing to the macaroons. “Those are _my_ favorite.”

To be honest, I’d just assumed Ladybug would enjoy the cookies based on how everyone at school reacted when Marinette brought them. Though, now that I thought about it, Marinette generally managed to make sure she had more than one herself.

I must have smiled at the memory, for Ladybug caught it and asked between bites (and sips of her coffee), “What are you thinking just now?”

“I’m happy seeing you happy,” I said, deftly tacking away from revealing anything more. “Do you like that coffee? I thought I’d try it since I was at the Bakery.”

“Mmm,” she said as she took another long sip. “It’s the best in Paris,” she said, oddly echoing what Marinette’s dad had said. “I’m flattered you think so much of me you’d cross the city for it.”

“For you, milady? No distance is too far.”


	4. #MARICHAT

March bled into April and Spring had begun to take over Paris. 

The weather had gotten warmer and blooms were evident everywhere I looked. Something about the annual cycle of renewal seemed to get into my blood, making me decide it was finally time to deal with the voicemail I’d received from Marinette.

I’d managed to see her a few more times at the Bakery, both as Adrien picking up some goodies to take back to the mansion, or a few evenings as Chat, again picking up the odd box of macaroons for Ladybug (though on those subsequent visits, I’d remembered to keep some cold, hard cash in my costume’s pocket). Marinette always seemed calmer and more approachable when she was at the Bakery, but none of those trips had allowed me enough time to try and chat with her; so, naturally, I managed to come up with a slightly different tactic. I just needed a little Ladybug luck to make it happen.

Opportunity arose midway through April. 

Father had gone out of town on an extended business trip for his company, taking Nathalie with him and leaving me mostly to my own devices for a few weeks. My bodyguard continued to run me around Paris, but I had more freedom than normal to come and go as Chat Noir. I’d been arriving earlier and earlier for my nightly prowls around Paris with Ladybug, but it had been exceedingly quiet. Still, I had pushed the limits as much as I could, routinely returning to the mansion well after one most nights, trying to extend every moment I was able to spend as my alter ego with my Lady.

Ladybug had noticed I was burning the candle a bit too much on one particularly quiet evening. We’d wound up on a rooftop with a magnificent view of the Eiffel Tower; it had been lit for the evening and I felt it was almost sparkling in the night.

“That is extraordinary this evening,” I said quietly, stifling a yawn. The roof was at a downward angle, and I was leaning on my back, propped up by my elbows, boots pressed against a tile to keep myself from sliding.

Ladybug had somehow managed to gracefully perch atop the roofline proper. “It is, isn’t it?” She smiled. “I am thankful each day to live in such a beautiful spot.” She turned toward me, slightly. “That reminds me, Chat. Do you mind cancelling the patrol for a night or two?”

“What’s up?” I asked nonchalantly. “Please don’t tell me you’ve got another cat sequestered somewhere.”

She laughed. “Nothing like that, kitty. No need to get jealous. But it’s been quiet enough, we could probably ease back a bit. I don’t know about you, but I could stand to get a good night’s rest for once.”

I turned toward her. “Okay,” I said simply. “I could use a night off, honestly.” I emphasized my feeling by yawning expansively and stretching luxuriously, something I could only do well while Chat.

“Cool,” she said, and stood. “I think I’ll call it a night – see you on Friday!”

“It’ll be macaroon night,” I said, referring to the fact that I usually brought snacks on our Friday rounds.

She smiled tiredly. “You know you don’t have to keep doing that, right?”

“I do,” I said, smiling my wide Chat smile. “I’m trying to wear you down.”

“Or add a few inches to my waist,” she said.

“That isn’t remotely possible,” I reminded her. If she was anything like me, her metabolism had gone to another planet entirely since donning her Miraculous. I felt like I was eating constantly now and knew for a fact I’d not gained anything other than muscle mass.

She laughed again and sailed into the night on her yo-yo. 

I returned the mansion myself and changed for bed, but wound up staring at the ceiling, thinking about the Marinette voicemail and trying to decide my best approach. I was having trouble deciding between approaching her as Adrien or dropping in as Chat. Adrien asking about the voicemail was likely not going to get me too far; Chat had a different issue, since he wouldn’t have any way of knowing about the call and therefore no reason to bring it up.

But my interactions with her at the Bakery led me to believe she’d likely to be more comfortable talking to Chat. I thought about asking Plagg, but the snoring coming from the dirty clothes hamper reminded me that one of us was taking this whole bedtime thing seriously. I rolled over and managed to get what amounted to a cat nap in before hauling myself through the shower to get ready for school.

Bleary eyed, I worked my way through the morning at school and was getting ready to head home for lunch when I caught Alya talking to Marinette.

“I can’t,” Marinette was saying. “I’ve got to get some sketching done during lunch today, Alya.”

“Okay, girl,” she said. “See you this afternoon.”

I thought quickly and realized this might be my chance to catch Marinette; it seemed safer than dropping in unannounced at the bakery this evening. I texted my bodyguard that I’d be staying at school for lunch and then made my way to the men’s bathroom. Having been surprised here a few times by classmates, I made an effort to ensure I was alone before locking myself into a stall.

“Plagg – claws out!” I said quietly.

The flash of transformation enveloped me, and as Chat Noir, I bounded up and out of the stall, leapt across the tops of the stalls and through the conveniently open windows. I hooked a claw on a downspout and threw myself up to the rooftop, dashed across the tiles and dropped just to the edge of the façade of the school, peering around to see if I could catch a glimpse of Marinette.

My feline eyes quickly picked out her signature outfit, and followed her as she skipped down the steps of the school. I started to coil up to launch myself to the next rooftop when she turned _away_ from the route that would lead her to the Bakery. I redirected my leap to give pursuit, curiosity having piqued this cat.

_Where are you going, Purrincess?_

I kept pace with her from the sky, trying to keep as low a profile as a cat-themed superhero could, given it was the middle of the day. At one point, I thought perhaps she might have seen me and managed to duck between two chimneys, peering out after she had turned a corner. I briefly lost her visually, but as my ability to use my feline sense of smell had progressed, I was quickly able to pick out her distinctive scent and found her again just as she entered the broad plaza by the riverbank.

It most definitely was not home.

I dropped in behind a parapet ringing a decorative cupola that overlooked the plaza and skulked low enough to keep my cat ears below the railing as I continued to watch her movements. I tried to tell myself I wasn’t actually stalking Marinette, but it was hard to argue with the evidence. I had no good reason to have followed her.

I didn’t have a great view of Marinette between the decorative slats of the parapet, so I risked poking my head over. She had her back to my position and from what I could tell, was busy working in her sketch book.

_Ah-hah!_ I thought. _This is her fabled inspiration point._

I knew from what conversations I’d managed to have with her at school (usually when others were around, naturally, as she seemed to freeze up when it was just the two of us) that she often sought out this spot in order to rough in or complete ideas she was working on. As a budding fashion designer, many of the sketches she’d shared with us had been amazing and showed that she had some true talent.

_Now or never_, I thought.

I pulled myself over the edge of the parapet and climbed quietly down the side of the structure, lightly dropping the final few meters to the sidewalk. I made a point of jingling my bell as I stepped down the steps toward Marinette, not wanting to startle her.

She’d heard my approach and turned, smiling. “I thought you’d been following me, Chat,” she said pleasantly, her hand holding the page open in her book.

_So much for stealth,_ I thought. 

“Sorry, Purrincess,” I said as I folded myself into a sitting cat position next to her. “I’m not stalking you,” I said defensively, “but I did want to chat with you, if you had a few minutes.”

“Talk with me?” she asked, puzzled. “What about?”

I scanned her face, looking for any trace of anger that I had followed her, and found none. Only deep blue eyes that were slightly puffy in the way eyes get when one is very, very tired. It occurred to me that I might not be the only student burning candles at both ends.

I’d rehearsed what I’d wanted to say multiple times. “I have a conundrum,” I started.

“Okay.”

“And I feel like you are the best person to go to for advice.”

Her eyes crinkled with the smile that joined it, but she remained silent.

I plunged forward. “I am aware that someone likes me. _Really _likes me,” I emphasized, “but is having trouble actually telling me. Directly.”

Marinette stared at me thoughtfully. “I see,” she said.

“I can’t say how I came into this information,” I continued, “but let’s just say the person in question would die of embarrassment if they knew that I had found out.”

She looked at me with an odd expression. “You’re not talking about you and Ladybug, are you?”

I felt embarrassment starting to appear on my face. “Uh, no, Purrincess,” I said haltingly. “Uh, Ladybug is well aware of how I feel about her.”

“I see,” she said again. 

“So, I guess my question is that I don’t know how to approach… this other person. If I let them know _I_ know, that could get messy. But I feel like I need to say something.”

“Do you like this other person?”

“Yes.”

“In the same way that… they seem to like you?”

I’d thought about that myself. “No,” I said honestly. “My heart is elsewhere.” I looked at her directly. “But I value them deeply as a friend.”

Marinette chuckled. “Ah, the dreaded Friend Zone,” she said.

I could feel the heat of embarrassment now. “Wow. That really makes this sound awful.”

“Look at it from their perspective,” she said gently. “My guess is they likely feel the same about you as you do about Ladybug.”

I looked away and down toward the river, which was flowing gently. “I hadn’t thought about that,” I said honestly. At no point had I considered that my reaction toward Marinette and her crush on me (as Adrien) was almost a parallel to how Ladybug was treating me (as Chat). I certainly knew how _I_ felt. If Marinette was dealing with the same emotions… I’d have to find a way to make this right.

Somehow. But without hurting her.

I turned back to Marinette, and took her hand into my paw. “Thank you, Marinette,” I said as I leaned down to kiss the top of her hand. “This has been very helpful.” I stood up. “If I’m not mistaken, however, you are going to be late for class. Unless, of course, you let me run you back to school…?”

“Oh!” she said suddenly as she looked at her phone. It was showed the time as 1252, meaning both of us had less than eight minutes to get back. She put her sketchbook into her bag. “Thank you, Chat,” she said. “That would be appreciated.”

I wrapped an arm around her waist, grabbed my baton, and vaulted to the rooftops, gently carrying her through the skyline of Paris and back toward our school. I carefully dropped down in an alleyway around the corner and let her go. “Thank you again for your time,” I said, bowing gallantly. 

“Anytime, Chat,” she smiled. “I’ll see you on Friday, right?” she suddenly asked.

My eyes widened. _Friday? How would she know about… oh, right._

“Of course, Princess. I’ll be by at the usual time to get my sweetie’s goodies.”

She smiled wider and quickly headed toward the main doors. I waited several moments before I dropped my transformation and followed her up the steps as Adrien.

My escapade had made me miss lunch, and my stomach rumbled loudly as I slipped in next to Nino for my first class of the afternoon just as the bell was ringing. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, pointedly inclining his head toward Marinette, who had arrived just ahead of me. As she settled into her seat, devious inspiration hit. I opened the IM chat function on my tablet – a forbidden activity that prevented none of us from using it – and pinged Marinette.

** _Adrien: _ ** _missed you at lunch. where were u_

** _M: _ ** _Sketching_

** _Adrien: _ ** _Cool, share later?_

** _M:_ ** _ maybe lol Why?_

** _Adrien: _ ** _Love seeing your designs._

** _M: _ ** _Thx_

** _Adrien: _ ** _Look, I don’t say this enough, but thank u for being my friend. You mean the world to me._

** _M:_ ** _ What’s wrong? Are you dying?!_

**_Adrien:_**_ Nothing like that! Just making up fur _(whoops! I backed that out) _for lost time._

I think she dropped her stylus. I tried not to smile as I started to add more, but was interrupted by a new four-way chat window popping open.

** _Alya:_ ** _ Guys, look at my new scoop!_

She’d posted a link to the Ladyblog for Marinette, Nino and I. With a gnawing dread in my stomach, I clicked the link and was greeted by one of her typically over the top headlines.

**CHAT NOIR HAS A NEW SWEETHEART? #MARICHAT**

Directly below it were several photos of me with Marinette on the plaza, including an especially incriminating one of me kissing her hand, followed by a completely out of context one with my arm around her waist. That last one had to have been taken just before I’d launched us out of the plaza on the baton. But that next shot was nowhere to be seen.

_Oh no. This is not good._

I flipped back to the chat window.

** _Nino:_ ** _ Ladybug won’t like that._

** _M: _ ** _Hey! There’s nothing going on between me and Chat, Alya._

** _Alya:_ ** _ Says you. Look at the photos!_

** _M: _ ** _I was *there* Alya. He wanted to talk._

** _Adrien:_ ** _ There’s no way he was hitting on Marinette, Alya. He’s in deep with Ladybug._

** _Alya:_ ** _ How do you know that, Adrien?_

** _Adrien: _ ** _Isn’t it obvious?_

** _Nino, Alya:_ ** _ No!_

** _M: _ ** _Guys! He was just talking to me!_

** _Alya: _ ** _I have a source that says he’s at your bakery on Friday nights. Care to comment?_

** _M: _ ** _Really, Alya? We are gonna have to talk after class._

I groaned and slowly started to bang my head on the desk. 

_So much for clearing things up._


	5. Just Dropping In

Alya’s blog post created no end of trouble for Marinette, and by the end of the week, she’d taken to burying herself in her classwork and hiding in the library. I was pretty much responsible for the situation in the first place and felt immense guilt over it.

Chat had created the problem, so Chat was going to fix it.

We were still on our self-imposed hiatus from our nightly prowl, so I’d actually gotten a reasonable night’s rest in and woke early Friday morning feeling refreshed for once. I ran through the shower, dressed for school, and mischievously took advantage of the fact that Nathalie was on the business trip with Father.

My bodyguard was in the main hallway reading the paper when I trotted down the stairs. Not a man of many words, he looked pointedly at the clock under the staircase which had barely chimed 0615, and raised an eyebrow.

I held up my gym bag. “Early practice today,” I said. “Can you drop me off?”

The other eyebrow went up, but he stood and went out to retrieve the sedan; I waited for him at the bottom of the steps and got in when he pulled up. We had our usually witty banter on the drive over to school, which is to say I read the news on my phone while he drove in silence. Traffic was fairly light for that hour, so he made good time and I arrived in front of the school by 0640.

I got out and started up the steps, slowly, knowing full well the doors would still be locked. I delayed long enough that the sedan pulled away before I reached the top step. I waited an extra moment to ensure that the sedan hadn’t just gone around the block, then skipped back down the staircase two at a time and dashed to the alleyway off to the side. There was a convenient gap between a dumpster and the wall, and I used it to stash my gym bag.

I took one final look to ensure the coast was clear, and held out my ring.

“Plagg – claws out!”

The transformation glow had barely faded before I was clawing up the side of the building. Once on the roof, I started to run across the tiles and vaulted into the air, somersaulting onto the next building in the process. As fast as I could, I made my way to the Bakery, trying to time it to meet Marinette before she’d left for school.

I dropped onto the roof of a building beside the bakery and across from the park; I’d seen it before, and it had some very cool downspouts that were just begging to be used as a fireman’s pole. I skulked to the edge of the roof, peering over to make sure I was not in direct line of sight of the Bakery, and then went over the edge and wrapped my arms around the downspout. 

“Yee-haaaw!” I cried as I quickly slid to ground level… and directly into an open catchment full of disgustingly cold water filled with refuse. I spluttered as I came back to the surface, quickly pulling myself out and dropping on all fours, soggy, to the sidewalk.

I shook water out of _all_ of my ears. “That seemed like it would be more fun,” I said to no one in particular, finding myself now cold and wet.

“Chat?” came a familiar voice from across the street.

_And I’d been so careful, too_.

I looked up, still dripping, to see Marinette at a side door to the Bakery, holding a trash bag that was apparently on its way to its final destination. Based on her stance, she had clearly caught my ignominious dunking. “Uh, hello, Princess,” I said, trying not to shiver. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” I said cheerfully.

“What are you doing out here, Chat?” she asked.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was just finishing my bath?”

“No, especially since I saw you sliding down that pipe with the glee of a five-year-old,” she said, smiling.

“Yeah,” I said, flicking my eyes back at the catchment. “And cats do hate water.”

“Why are you here, Chat?” she asked again, putting down the trash bag for a moment.

I got to my feet and crossed the alleyway, careful to stay far enough away that I wouldn’t get her wet. “All right, I confess. I came to see if I could catch you before school today,” I started.

_Whoops! I did it again._

“I mean, before you _go_ to school today,” I hastily amended as I tried to wring out my tail. “I saw the photos on the Ladyblog and figured you were taking a fair amount of heat from my impromptu visit at the plaza. I wanted to apologize,” I said, trying hard to quash my shivering. 

I didn’t normally get cold when roaming the city as Chat Noir, but it was a chilly April morning and I was drenched. “I feel terrible for putting you into that pos—pos—position,” I finally got out through chattering teeth. Unconsciously, I wrapped my arms around myself in a poor attempt to get warm.

“I appreciate that, Chat,” she said, eyeing me. “Perhaps, in the future, you’ll be a little more circumspect?” she continued with a trace of a smile. “You are one of two of the most recognizable superheroes in Paris, after all. Alya can’t be the only one following your every move.”

I nodded as much as I could. “Qu—qu—quite correct, Princess,” I agreed. 

“And, maybe, you might pay more attention to who was following you, too.”

This was starting to feel like some sort of life lesson. But she wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already thought of; I had been so single-minded in my stalking --- uh, rather, pursuit --- of Marinette, I’d completely spaced on Hero Tip Number One: always be aware of your surroundings.

I flicked a look back at the catchment. Apparently, I was going to be a slow learner on that particular tip.

I looked back at Marinette, suddenly realizing _exactly _what she had just said to me.

_In the future…?_

Marinette opened the door. “Come on, Chat. Let’s get you a blanket. You’re turning blue.”

“You ha—ha—have to get to sch—school,” I protested, as she grabbed me by the arm and forced me into the Bakery’s kitchen. It was the second time she’d proven to me she was stronger than she looked.

“We’ve got time,” she said. “Especially if some cool kitty decides to give me an express lift.”

I nodded. “Of course, purr-purr-purrincess,” I said.

She found a stool and set me down close to the bread oven, and then draped me with several large blankets she brought in from the residence. Her father was out in the main part of the store, only briefly poking his head in to ensure there was no funny business going on between us. Frankly, I was shaking so hard at that point, I was having a hard time not scratching the wood on the stool with my claws. Funny business was nowhere near the top of my list.

A cup of divine smelling coffee was pressed into my shaking paws, and I carefully lifted it for a sip, then a second. Between the warmth of the bread oven against my costume, and the hot coffee, I started to feel normal in short order.

“Thank you,” I said. My green eyes went to the cat clock in the kitchen, noting it was now 0734.

_Really? A cat clock?_

“I’m still a bit damp,” I said, “but it’s getting later. Are you sure you want a lift?”

“Got it covered,” she said, as she produced a plastic pullover rain parka and deftly pulled it on.

“Someone recently went to Disneyland,” I said, observing the stylized Mickey Mouse on the back. “Are you seriously expecting me to carry you wearing that, though?” I asked. “Mice and cats… not a good combination. I have a reputation to maintain, Princess.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said. “Consider this payback for the plaza,” she added, eyes twinkling.

“Ah,” I said. “You drive a hard bargain, mademoiselle.”

She took the empty coffee cup from me, and then led me to the door. Once outside, I wrapped an arm around her, gently, and started to extend my baton. In my periphery, I could see her wrinkle her nose. I was not unaware that I had acquired a rather detestable odor from having been submerged, and wondered idly if it would disappear when I dropped my transformation.

We made it to school with time to spare, and I landed in the same alley I’d started from, gently detaching Marinette from me and bowing grandly. “Thank you for the coffee,” I said. 

She nodded and started to walk away. I thought of something and put a gentle hand on her. “Uh, Marinette?”

She turned back. “Yes?”

“Do you like cannoli?”

Her eyes widened. “I _love_ cannoli,” she said. “Why?”

“No reason,” I said, smiling widely, as I started to climb away from her. “See you tomorrow night, then.”

“Wait, what?!” I heard her say to my retreating form. “Chat?!”

I made like I hadn’t heard her and continued up and over the wall to the roof, flopping down behind the edge. I cocked a feline ear and heard her leave the alley, somewhat exasperated, and then flipped back over myself to retrieve my gym back and drop my transformation.

Plagg floated away from me, holding his nose. “What are you doing with Marinette?” he asked. “And good luck hiding that awful smell.”

I took a sniff and realized he was right, I was in sorry shape. I dug through the gym bag and came up with a bottle of the horrid cologne Father was hawking these days, held my own nose, and doused myself liberally. “I don’t know,” I said. “But for some reason, it feels like the right next step in smoothing the way for her and Adrien.”

“How does visiting her as Chat Noir figure into that plan, exactly?” he said. “He’s not he one she’s hot for.”

“I know,” I said, as I packed up everything and started toward school. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Right,” he said, as he ducked into my shirt.

I came around the corner to find Alya on the steps, talking excitedly with Marinette. My threat level went to crimson and I approached them warily (and, hopefully, from the upwind side). “Ladies?”

Marinette looked up and froze as she always did in my presence. Alya ignored her. “Look. At. This!”

She turned the phone up and showed me video of my carrying Marinette toward the school not five minutes earlier. “Wow,” I said, turning to Marinette and trying to stay in character as Adrien. “Twice in three days? He must really like you.” 

I started to turn away, and then my inner Chat made me pause and turn back. I added somewhat devilishly, “It’s almost enough to make some of us jealous.”

Alya’s jaw dropped and Marinette went white.

“See you in class,” I said on my way up the steps, trailing Eau De Catchment in my wake.


	6. Cannoli Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please allow me to indulge in a more upbeat and slightly over-the-top entry in this series. My other series is in the middle of a deep, dark, emotional storyline and this popped into my head as an antidote. And, frankly, I just needed so MariChat action to get through the week. Enjoy. --ep

The weekend was upon me and with Father still out of town, I decided to take full advantage and escaped from the mansion directly after breakfast. I wasn’t usually out this early as Chat Noir on any day, let alone a weekend morning, so I prudently tried to keep a lower than normal profile: instead of the giant arcs I normally cut through the air, I kept low to the rooftops and avoided leaping anything wider than an alleyway. I had no particular destination in mind and was instead simply enjoying the freedom of being Chat.

I still kept an ear out for any trouble as I worked the city, but we’d gone almost ten days now without any sort of akuma attack. I was privately worried that this might spell the end of my time as a superhero, but then again, I couldn’t argue with a future that didn’t need people like me keeping Paris safe, either. So I decided to enjoy the quiet for just a teensy, tiny bit.

Close to noon, I found myself arriving at the grand plaza where I’d met up with Marinette a few days prior. I hadn’t gone specifically to seek her out, especially since I was going to be dropping in on her later that evening; instead, I was planning on just sitting and taking in the view for a while. And maybe consider how to get lunch, given how my stomach had started to rumble. Loudly.

I dropped in on a gently sloping roof that was facing the river, scuttled up the roof tiles slightly, and leisurely stretched out to soak up some rays. The plaza was busy with people enjoying the pleasant April day, and I idly watched the boats moving up and down the gently flowing river. It was truly a chamber of commerce day for Paris.

My feline sense of smell started to pick up a delicious scent coming from below, and I propped myself up to see a food vendor rolling his cart into the broad sidewalk just above the plaza’s steps. I was pretty sure I was picking up some mouthwatering combination of sausage and peppers – an option too good to pass up. I cat-walked to the edge of the building and carefully climbed down into a fairly hidden cross corridor, waited a bit to ensure I was truly alone, and dropped my transformation.

“Plagg – claws in!”

The glow faded and I quickly walked around the corner to find the vendor had stopped and setup shop. I stepped up and was rewarded by being his first customer of the day. I watched as he carefully pulled out a warmed bun, layered in the sausage and topped it with slewed onions and peppers. I paid the tab, grabbed a ton of napkins and whipped back around to the alleyway with the intent to re-transform and enjoy my lunch from my original perch.

“Plagg – claws out!”

As the glow faded, I caught movement at the end of the alleyway and immediately dropped into my pounce-crouch, discarding my lunch in the process. I needn’t have worried: it was Marinette, who had rounded the corner and was staring at me with a bemused expression.

I was nearly certain she hadn’t seen me transform – at least, I was reasonably certain? Okay, I’ll be honest, my attention had been on my lunch and not the alley. “Marinette,” I said, wistfully watching as my lunch started to get picked over by the ever-present pigeons. “We have to stop meeting in alleyways.”

“Chat,” she said as she walked toward me. Her eyes flicked to the mess now on the ground. “Was that…?”

“Yeah,” I said, “but it’s not a purroblem. I can get another.” I looked at her for a second. “Would you care to join me?”

“Uh,” she said, “I’m fine, thanks. I had a bite to eat before coming over here.”

I stood up next to her, seeing for the first time her sketchbook. “Ah! More sketching!”

“Yes,” she nodded, smiling. She looked at me for a moment. “Care to join _me_?”

“If I won’t be a distraction,” I said, smiling broadly. 

“Oh,” she said, smiling wider, “you’ll be that. But I could use a model to sketch, if you’re willing.”

“I’m _drawn_ to you, Purrincess,” I laughed. She had no idea she was asking a _real_ model to sit down for her. “I’ll happily subject myself to your meowinstrations,” I happily added, watching her roll her eyes.

Lunch forgotten, I followed her out into the broad plaza. “You sit there,” she said, pointing me to a step. “As a cat, Chat,” she said.

“No lounging, then,” I replied as I refolded myself into my patented patient cat stance. I even rearranged my tail so it would artistically wrap around.

“That’s perfect,” she said. “Now, sit still.”

“I believe you meant ‘purrfect,’ Princess,” I corrected. “And are you sure this is my best side?” I added, needling her slightly by turning my head to and fro. “I have a hard time telling in the mirror.”

I could tell she was trying not to giggle. “Hush,” she said, starting to sketch in her book.

The afternoon wore on, and I had a pleasant time rearranging myself as directed once Marinette had finished a particular angle and wanted something different. I lost track after she’d flipped through at least six pages, thoroughly engrossed in watching her work. She often held her tongue at an angle when sketching, her deep blue eyes continually flicking between her subject and the paper with an intenseness I’d seen before – but with Ladybug. It was odd how many similarities the two had, and how I’d never noticed that. Then again, my blood sugar levels were running at all time lows, and I very well could have been hallucinating.

Only once I’d started having to put a paw or two to shield my eyes from the setting sun did Marinette realize just how long we had been at it. She looked up from her pad apologetically. “I’m sorry, Chat,” she said. “Once I get into the zone, I lose all track of time.”

I stretched out, trying to get a kink out of my back from the particular position she’d placed me in last. I was infinitely more flexible while transformed and relished the ability to thoroughly ease the tension in my lower lumbar region. “This has been an exceptional afternoon,” I said. “It’s been fascinating watching you work.” I hesitated. “Any chance I can peek?”

“Well,” she said, suddenly blushing. “Okay.”

Marinette stepped over to me and flipped to the first page, a stray lock of hair falling forward into her face as she moved. My eyes widened – the likeness was insane; she’d even managed to get the pattern in my costume right, despite only using a pencil. “Wow,” I said, too overwhelmed to say anything else. 

She flipped through the rest. Some focused on particular expressions she’s asked me to make, others on close up details, like the reflection of the plaza on my bell or the wave of my hair around one of my feline ears. I was at total loss for words. “This is excellent work, gallery quality,” I breathed. I turned back toward her. “I am impressed and would pay real money for any one of these.” I paused, smiling, “Assuming, of course, cats carried money…”

Marinette laughed as she packed away her pencils and closed the book. “That’s kind of you to say, Chat,” she said. “In truth, I find it clears my mind and helps center me.” She turned away, a strange look crossing her face. “I have a lot going on in my life these days. It’s important to stay focused on what matters.”

Her words resonated with me – as much as an oxymoron as it was, being Chat on a non-emergency day was doing the same for me. “I think I can understand that, Princess,” I added. “And this—” I indicated my costume, “—is only my _night _gig.”

Marinette looked back at me, searching my eyes for something. “Speaking of night, did you say you were going to drop in later?”

“With cannoli,” I confirmed, pulling out my baton. “Barring an akuma, what time is good?”

“Now would be fine,” she said, smiling. “My parents are working late in the bakery.”

“In that case, let me run you home then. If you don’t mind a quick side trip to pick up the goods.”

“All right,” she said. Marinette rearranged her sketchbook and pencil case into one arm, and used the other to grasp around my shoulders. I wrapped another arm around her midsection and used the baton to escalate into the lengthening shadows. 

I had recently created an anonymous payment account for Chat and dumped in a portion of my weekly allowance. After not being able to pay at the Bakery a while ago (what cat keeps a wallet, I ask?), it was an easy answer, allowing me to pre-purchase goods as Adrien, and then have Chat pick them up, no questions asked. During breakfast, I had ordered for pickup a dozen hand-made cannoli from one of my favorite restaurants, Phillipe’s Italian Bistro. 

Landing carefully on the Bistro’s roof, I left Marinette and clawed down to the side alley where the door to the kitchen stood ajar. I knocked and the door was immediately opened by a white-clad sous chef I had seen on prior visits. He smiled. “Chat, back again?”

“Hey, Jacques,” I replied. “Another to-go for me.”

“Let me guess,” he said, turning back to the table and picking up a small handled paper bag. “Cannoli. Again.”

I winked. “What can I say? It’s the fastest way to my lady’s heart.”

“You’ve chosen the best, my friend. Bon appetit.”

I carefully clawed my way back up to the roof, trying to ignore the wonderful smell from the bag, and handed the bag to Marinette. “Guard these,” I laughed. “I will fight claw and tooth to protect them.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she smirked as I wrapped my arm around her again and we headed for the Bakery.

“Should we go through the front door?” I asked as we arced over the city.

“Might not be the best option,” Marinette said. “There is a balcony on the roof. We can eat there.”

“By your command, Princess,” I said, and adjusted my angle as we approached so we would gently drop down onto the tile. 

I took a look around after I released Marinette and shortened the baton. The space was completely Marinette with touches here and there that reflected her personality. She sat down in a chaise lounge off to the side, and I leapt to the edge of an empty planter that was close at hand, balancing perfectly.

I watched as she opened the box and took a cannoli, then offered me one. I snared one without hooking a claw, and started to munch. “So,” I said between mouthfuls of one of the best ricotta fillings in the city, “I wanted to follow up a bit on our earlier conversation.”

“All right,” she said. Somehow, she had already polished off her first and was halfway through the second.

“I feel like I am making progress with my… special person,” I said. “I’ve started to see her in a new light. I’m understanding her better.” I paused, not even sure where I was going myself. “I really like her – like I said earlier, she’s an amazing friend; but I feel like I’m going to hurt her no matter what I do.”

I looked up. “You were right earlier. I understand now the dilemma Ladybug is facing with me.” I looked away. “In some ways, I almost wish I could ask Ladybug how she is dealing with… well, me… while still holding out hope that the one _she _loves will see reason.”

I looked back at Marinette, who was staring at me intently. “I can’t obviously tell you what Ladybug would be thinking,” she said, smiling slightly. “But if I _were_ Ladybug, I’d think she’d probably tell you she feels like she’s in an impossible position.” She paused. “Much as you are.”

“Love is not easy, is it,” I observed.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be,” she replied, starting on her fourth cannoli. “That’s why it’s such an amazing emotion.”

I smiled as I leaned over and nabbed the final cannoli. “Thank you for lending an ear, Marinette,” I said. “I don’t have many friends that I can talk to,” I added, unwittingly admitting the truth in and out of costume, “and I really hate burdening Ladybug with anything.” I smiled. “Not that I could talk to her about this, actually. Since, you know…” I trailed off, blushing.

“You love her?” she laughed. “I can see how that could create a problem. But,” she said, a wicked gleam in her eye, “she might surprise you. Try it.”

“All right,” I said. I flipped open my baton: I had about twenty minutes before I had to meet up with Ladybug for patrol. As far as I knew, we hadn’t cancelled it tonight.

“Got to go?” Marinette asked as I put the baton away.

“Yeah,” I said. “In theory, Ladybug and I are patrolling tonight. But it’s been so quiet we’ve been slacking a bit as of late.”

“I have a hunch she is going to want to get out tonight,” Marinette said. “You should go,” she started, “but Chat?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“You are more than welcome to stop by anytime you want to talk.” She paused. “But no more stalking,” she said, as she pulled out her phone. “Can you text me your baton number? Then you can just give me a heads up.”

I pulled the baton out and accessed my contacts, wondering if it was actually safe for me to add someone besides Ladybug to the Cat Phone. 

_Why not?_

We swapped numbers and I tested to make sure my baton could connect to a normal phone. It had no issue, making me wonder why I’d not thought of that before.

“All right, Princess,” I said as I unfolded from the planter and leapt to the railing. “Thank you for a pleasant day.”

“My pleasure, Chat.”

I dropped off the balcony into double-barrel roll and then used the baton to vault into the night, headed toward our usual meeting place. I arrived well in advance of Ladybug, realizing too late I hadn’t brought coffee. There wasn’t time, so I simply sat on the apex of the roof, waiting.

Ladybug arrived on time, gently dropping into a seated position beside me. My masked eyebrows went up when I smelled… coffee!

I turned, green eyes wide open - the blend was distinctive and only came from one place. "From the Dupang-Cheng Bakery? How did you know?" I asked, gratefully accepting a cup.

“Ladybug intuition,” she smiled. “So, Chat,” she asked pleasantly. “Tell me about your day…”


	7. Chatnip Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allow a further feel-good indulgence that was inspired by a recent conversation with a fellow author. It’s not quite as polished as normal but seems to be just about right. Enjoy. --ep

We’d had an uneventful patrol and I’d returned back to the mansion earlier than normal that Saturday evening. Sunday was typically another generally quiet day in the Agreste household, which generally meant I’d alternate between finishing up on schoolwork and noodling around on my Xbox. I was up early with the intent on getting through some of the material that had been piling up in my assignment binder after breakfast, but once I was settled in at my desk, my mind immediately started to wander back to my day on the plaza with Marinette, and our conversation on her balcony afterward.

What occurred to me was that although my initial impetus for appearing to her as Chat was to smooth out her relationship with Adrien, I was, in fact, finding that _she_ had started to be more helpful with my own conundrum with Ladybug. I hadn’t made any progress at all on the Adrien front, other than Marinette was now more comfortable around me at school. 

Perhaps that _would_ qualify as progress.

I, on the other hand, had failed to take Marinette’s advice and broach the topic of my feelings with Ladybug, especially given just how oddly receptive to conversation she had been while we were sailing through the city last night. She had gone out of her way to keep me engaged, far, far out of her normal character. Almost as if she had picked up on the vibes I must have been sending out that I desperately needed to talk.

But no, the very cool, very confident Chat Noir had lost his nerve last night and instead threw one bad cat pun after another at her. Thankfully she’d taken it in stride, but _I’d_ counted it as a failure.

I fiddled around with my tablet for a few more minutes and decided there was nothing for it: I needed another consult with Marinette.

Plagg was not happy about being called to duty so early on a Sunday, having been kept in the ring for nearly a full day on Saturday. I’d tried to make it up to him by springing for the super expensive version of his favorite cheese, but even that failed to chase the dismay from his face as I stood from the desk and held out the Miraculous.

“Plagg – claws out!”

If it was even possible, Plagg made his displeasure fully known by short circuiting the normal transformation sequence. One moment I was Adrien; the next, with the barest puff of green smoke, I was Chat Noir.

“I’ll make it up to you,” I said to Plagg, knowing he’d hear me.

I pulled out my baton and clicked into the text message mode. I’d agreed to warn Marinette (for the most part) before visiting and started a new thread to her.

** _Chat: _ ** _Hey, Princess. Taking in strays today?_

** _Mari:_ ** _ What’s wrong? Are you okay?_

** _Chat: _ ** _Had a hard time taking your advice last night. Need some confidence building._

** _Mari:_ ** _ Doubt that very much, but you are welcome to stop by._

** _Chat: _ ** _Be there in ten._

I smiled and clicked the phone closed, replacing the baton at the small of my back as I vaulted out the open window. With Father out of town, I’d become a bit laxer about my exits, especially since I knew my bodyguard would have his nose buried in the Sunday paper. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it much longer – he was due back midweek – so I breathed the fresh air as I skipped over rooftops on my way to the Bakery as if I’d been given a weekend pass that could be revoked at any time.

That was when I smelled it. 

For the last few weeks, I’d finally mastered how to use my enhanced feline sense of smell, which was capable of detecting trace amounts of nearly any scent from an amazing distance. As time had gone on, the database in my head had grown to catalog what I had been exposed to so far, and this scent was wildly new. And strangely captivating. I dropped out of the arc I’d been scribing through the sky and into a crouch, sniffing the air madly.

Whatever it was, I _had_ to find it. 

I started to track the scent, which took me away from the Bakery; all thoughts of Marinette had been erased, the allure of this exotic fragrance was so powerful. Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed, I hurled myself across the skyline of Paris in pursuit. Little warnings were going up in the back of my head – I’d started to listen to those more now, since they generally didn’t bode well for me – but they, too, were being drowned out by the insane need I suddenly felt to find the source.

At length, I found myself atop a building overlooking the river; the source appeared to be a barge-like vessel that was slowly moving downstream. There was some sort of rectangular box sitting on the main deck, and from what my enhanced vision was seeing, a bowl of something was sitting in the exact center, almost beckoning me. Those warnings in the back of my head had hiked themselves to Red Alert level, but I was compelled to throw myself off the building and use my baton to helicopter toward the ship.

As dropped lower and lower, the rational part of my brain finally asserted itself and pointed out that the shape of the box looked an awful lot like a giant-sized pet carrier. One just big enough, perhaps, for a specific black cat, who was mindlessly headed straight for it. I kept dropping, unable to stop myself; the scent was so powerful now, it was overwhelming my ability to ignore it.

I’m not sure I really remember much of what happened next. I’d nearly reached my target when my fall was arrested with a massive sideways yank away from the boat. I _think_ I saw multiple people swarm the deck, each holding a section of the cover for said carrier; to be honest, I was pretty much out of it by that point, amazed that I was floating in mid-air with no effort on my part. I closed my eyes, rather dreamily, and faded off to sleep.

It was an entirely different smell that woke me: a mix of vanilla and sugar, and other complex spices. The unique aroma of one Marinette. I cracked open a masked eye and found I was curled up into a little ball, cat-like, on the chaise lounge atop the Bakery’s rooftop patio. I cracked open the other eye and started to stretch, only to become more fully aware of my surroundings when my extended paw gently touched the fabric of her shirt.

_Oh my God. I’m curled _into_ Marinette_.

Both eyes shot open and I rolled off the chaise in what would normally have been a smoothly fluid motion; however, my body wasn’t responding correctly and I instead wound up in my back with limbs akimbo. 

Marinette was quickly at my side. “Easy, Chat,” she said.

“Princess,” I said, my mouth dry as the desert and cheeks as inflamed as a supernova. “I’m… I mean… I didn’t… I would never…!” I couldn’t complete a sentence and found myself simply staring at her.

“It’s okay, Chat,” she said as she easily helped me up and back onto the chaise. “From what Ladybug told me, you’ve been exposed to some pretty high-grade catnip.”

She carefully took my usual position on a planter, facing me. “You’ve been sleeping off the worst affects now for the better part of the day. How are you feeling?”

_Like I want to crawl under that planter and disappear entirely._

“Better, I guess,” I managed to get out. “Catnip? Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “It’s a good thing Ladybug happened to be about. Apparently, it was some sort of akumatized big game hunter. He was going to capture you first, and then use you to lure her in for—”

“Both Miraculouses,” I finished glumly, holding a paw to my forehead. A nice little headache had planted itself between my eyes and it didn’t feel like it was going anywhere anytime soon. “I had no idea anything could affect me like that,” I said. “It was so strong…”

“You’re a _cat_, Chat,” she offered. “Of course it would affect you.” She reached a hand out to my arm, gently steadying me. “Now you know,” she added. “One more scent to catalog and be careful with later.”

“Did she get the akuma?” I asked suddenly. “She might need me—”

“She did,” Marinette smiled. “Then she brought you here. Apparently, you were babbling my name.”

_How much worse can this get?_

“I was?” I looked at her in total, abject embarrassment. “In my defense, I _was_ heading here originally.”

“Which is what I told her,” Marinette nodded. “If you are worried that Ladybug thinks you’re stepping out on her, I can assure you she doesn’t.” She paused, thinking for a moment. “In fact, we had a nice chat while you were drooling all over yourself.”

“I was?” I said, horrified, looking down at my costume in an attempt to detect any leftover traces.

“No,” she laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I thought you’d be less embarrassed if I told you that instead of…” she trailed off.

My eyes widened, knowing exactly where she was going. “Please, _please_ tell me I didn’t really sleep leaning against you.”

The smile grew wider. “Just like a real cat.” She paused again, eyes twinkling. “I even scratched you behind the ears. You’re kind of cute when you purr.”

_There is no hole deep enough that I could possible dig to escape this._

“Ahhh,” I started, “wow. I have no idea what to say other than I am now totally, completely embarrassed.”

“Chat,” she said, very gently and with complete Marinette considerateness, “this is a safe place for you. I know it’s anything _but_ that out there—” she waved in general at Paris “—but here, you can be yourself.”

I smiled slightly. How had I ever wound up with a friend as great as Marinette? And now, actually, both parts of my persona could lay claim to her. Maybe this hadn’t been such a bad day after all.

“Anyway,” she said, snapping me out of my reverie. “You wanted to talk?”

“I did,” I said, “but it can wait,” I added, seeing the long shadows being cast across the space. Having slept the day away, I really did need to get back and finish my schoolwork for tomorrow. “I should really go.”

“All right, if you are feeling well enough…?”

“Yes,” I said, hiding the rubbery state of my legs by quickly leaping to the railing next to her. My balance was not quite perfect, and I knew she could tell, but she had the good sense not to point it out.

“I’d like to stop by sometime this week, if that’s okay?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” she agreed. “Just text me when you think you’ll be here.”

“Thank you, Princess,” I said, nodding back to the lounge. “I appreciate everything, including your discretion.”

“Of course, Chat,” she smiled. “Have a good evening.”

I smiled as much as I could, and simply leapt to the roof opposite, nowhere near feeling good enough for my usual showmanship. I was halfway back to the mansion when something Marinette had said finally registered through the still-lifting fog on my brain.

_She had a long chat with Ladybug…?_


	8. Spring Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Spring! That perennial season where everything renews, and love blooms anew. And, of course, a stellar excuse for me to share the backstory on how Adrien came up with a way to disguise his faux Chat Noir costume during Elegy. Yes, there is a backstory. And it involves MariChat. Enjoy, --ep

I was dying to know what Ladybug had said to Marinette about me and decided to concoct another reason to spend an afternoon with my Princess. I still had a day or two of freedom as late April started to give way to May; Father had unexpectedly extended his business trip until the following week, trying to track down some sort of obscure fabric from China, so I plotted in earnest.

Knowing that Marinette loved to sketch, I did a quick internet search and determined that the gardens at Versailles would be in full bloom. Getting there would be interesting – I’d have to figure out how to hide Chat in plain sight – but it seemed like a decent excuse.

I implemented Phase One at school late Friday afternoon. As we were packing up our things from the final class of the day, I casually turned to Marinette and stepped the Adrien charm up to eleven. “Big plans for the weekend?” I asked, smiling.

Marinette looked at me oddly. “Not particularly. I have some projects to finish up,” she added quickly. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” I replied, continuing to smile. “Just curious.” I slung my bookbag over my shoulder and waved to her. “Have a great weekend!”

I could feel her staring at me as I wandered out of the classroom and headed for the waiting sedan; I had my Chinese tutoring to get through before I could go with Phase Two. It went well enough, but I knew I wasn’t putting in as much effort as I should have. My eyes kept wandering to the view through the window; when I realized my tutor had prompted me twice to respond, I snapped back to full attention and made it through the back half of the lesson with more aplomb.

Back at the mansion, I left my bodyguard at the door and took the steps two at a time; after safely shutting the door to my bedroom, Plagg floated out. “What are you plotting, Adrien?” he asked, eyes wide with glee.

“You’re rubbing off on me far too much, Plagg,” I laughed. “I’m about to invite Marinette for an morning at the park. Versailles, to be exact.” I leaned down toward him. “I’m going to go as Chat, so it’s likely going to be a long day for you my little friend.”

His eyes narrowed, an expression I’d started to use myself. “Why not cut to the chase? Go as Adrien.”

“Not yet,” I said. “Besides, she’s been talking to Ladybug. I need to know what she knows.”

Plagg looked at me in an odd way, started to say something, and thought better of it. “Well,” he said at length, “we’re going to need to come up with some way to disguise your disguise.”

“I know,” I said as I walked toward the closet in my bathroom. “A hat’s not going to work,” I muttered as I started going through drawers. 

“Actually, it might,” Plagg said, “but you still need to hide enough of your face, too. The mask is sort of obvious.”

“Right,” I said, immediately discarding the beanie I’d picked up and then just about everything in the t-shirt drawer. I turned and scanned the rest of the closet and quickly realized most of my outfits would be so identified with Adrien none of them would work, even if they did cover the cat ears. I was starting to feel like this was not going to happen.

Plagg was zipping around the closet while I stood there, transfixed by the problem. “This will work,” he said, as he _poofed!_ his way into another drawer. 

I followed him over and pulled the drawer open. Plagg was sitting atop a pair of nondescript navy windpants and a dark grey hoodie. They had to be the only two items in my wardrobe from House of Gabriel that didn’t have prominent logos on them. I pulled them out and held the sweatshirt up. “This might work,” I said, rather dubiously. 

Plagg sighed audibly. “You need to transform to text Marinette, right? Might as well try it out.”

I laughed. “Plagg – claws out!”

I went through my transformation sequence, and once the green glow faded, I carried my workout gear out to the bathroom proper; after locking the door, I slipped on the windpants (surprisingly hard when one is wearing cat boots) and pulled the hoodie over my head (snagging it several times with a claw). After flipping the hood up and over my feline ears, I turned toward the mirror to see what I’d come up with. The overall effect wasn’t bad; my boots didn’t look all that unusual, and with the hood up, my face was shaded from most angles, hiding (for the most part) the mask. Unfortunately, my feline ears had to flatten in order to keep the hood streamlined; it was not a comfortable feeling, but I’d have to deal with it.

The claws were another matter altogether. It kind of looked like I was wearing gloves, but the sharp tips would be hard to miss. I’d have to think about that a bit. The tail and baton, were problems, too; as I turned in the mirror, I could see they were creating some odd lumps where none should exist. I hated the idea of leaving either item behind - you never know when an akuma was going to appear - so I added that to my pile of to-dos.

I pulled out my baton and flipped into text mode.

** _Chat:_ ** _ Purrincess, are you around?_

** _Mari:_ ** _ Hey Chat._

** _Chat:_ ** _ Still hoping to cat-nect with you. Any chance u r free this weekend? And want to sketch?_

** _Mari: _ ** _I already have a portfolio full of you, Chat. ;-)_

** _Chat: _ ** _I’m honored. But was thinking of something else. I hear Versailles is in bloom…_

** _Mari: _ ** _That would be fun – haven’t been to the gardens in a while. What time?_

** _Chat: _ ** _Meet you at the Place du Trocadero metro station around 0800?_

** _Mari:_ ** _ Uh, are you planning on taking the train with me?_

** _Chat:_ ** _ Yep. Why?_

** _Mari:_ ** _ You’re gonna stand out._

** _Chat: _ ** _Got it covered. Literally._

** _Mari:_ ** _ Right. Okay, see you tomorrow!_

\--

Patrol had been uneventful on Friday evening, allowing me some quality facetime with Ladybug. She was pretty distracted, though; something was on her mind, and despite my best cat puns, nothing made her crack. As it seemed like a bad environment to broach “the talk” I put it off, again, and wound up home at a reasonable hour for once.

Up way too early, I blew through my morning routine like a whirling dervish and returned to my bedroom only to watch the minutes grind by on my phone. By 0645 I’d had enough of that and transformed to Chat Noir. I’d given some thought to the final aspects of my disguise, and had prepped my backpack accordingly; once the green glow faded, I removed my belt and packed it atop some other goodies I’d decided to bring along. The baton would go on top after I’d gotten to our rendezvous. It was a small thing, but I felt better having everything with me.

I quickly donned the workout gear and started to bound out of the window of my bedroom, only realizing when I missed my landing on the fencepost that my movements would be severely restricted with my new outerwear. Intentional or not, the way I’d crafted my Chat costume gave me nearly unlimited movement and flexibility; that was definitely not the case with standard poly blend. I’d need to be more careful I wanted to keep anything from tearing in multiple places.

_New plan!_

I dusted myself off and pulled the hoodie back up, moved the baton to the backpack earlier than anticipated, then nonchalantly wandered around to the front of the mansion and simply walked through the gate. There was a Metro station fairly close to the mansion, and I crossed the street with my fellow Parisians, paid my fare, and entered the next set of cars headed for Trocadero. It turned out to be a reasonably good test of my disguise-over-a-disguise; oddly, I blended in completely with the crowd and no one gave me so much as a side glance. I even risked keeping my claws out for the last part of the ride, gripping the pole in the car like a normal person (despite my ability to keep perfectly balanced as Chat) and didn’t see as much as raised eyebrow.

Plagg had told me multiple times that people only saw what they wanted to see. I now had firsthand evidence he was right.

I bounded up the staircase to the street as fast as the windpants allowed, and found a quasi-obvious place to wait for Marinette, idly wishing I’d thought to bring coffee with me. Even having taken the Metro, I was still early and found myself pacing; I also realized how much I was missing the tail. Normally I used it to release some anxiety, and without it, I was a bit out of sorts.

Marinette appeared right on schedule, carrying her sketchbook and pencil case. She was looking for me, and made a direct path toward me once our eyes met. “Well,” she said, “I’ll give you credit. You’re not entirely obvious, unless someone is looking for you specifically.”

“Thanks, Princess,” I said. “I took the Metro as a test, actually.”

Her eyes widened. “Indeed.”

I decided not to elaborate. “Shall we?” I asked, bowing and holding out a paw.

She laughed and took my hand, and we re-entered the Metro, quickly located the next train toward Versailles and were there in less than an hour. From the station, the grand palace and its magnificent gardens were just a short walk, and barely after 0930, we found ourselves strolling through the extravagant foliage surrounding the estate.

Marinette surprised me and headed northward, and led me out to the Bassin de Neptune. She leaned against an ornate wall and began to pull out her materials; I started to hop up into a standard Chat perch atop the wall, then thought better of it, and instead mirrored her casual stance.

It was a warm morning, and would be a pleasant day; the fragrance of the flowering garden presented me with an overlapping cornucopia of scents, all welcome and not overwhelming like it might have been a few months earlier. I folded my arms and pleasantly leaned over to see what Marinette had started.

She’d positioned herself to see the grand fountain opposite and had quickly drawn in the basics. In a few more strokes, she’d hinted at the movement of the water within the fountain. I sighed appreciatively. Marinette had talent.

I let the companionable silence last until her third sketch of the morning, before venturing into Phase Three. “So,” I started amicably. “I never had a chance to thank you for taking in a stray on that ill-fated catnip morning.”

“Mmm,” she replied, holding a pencil in her mouth as she sketched with another.

“Aside from my still being incredibly embarrassed at the whole thing, I remember you, uh, mentioning having quite the conversation with Ladybug.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Uh, she, uh, didn’t happen to say anything about me, did she?”

Marinette took the pencil out. “Of course she did, kit—Chat. She dropped you off, after all, and had to explain what happened.”

“Right,” I said, blushing slightly. “Uh, well, I guess…”

_What do I ask her now? Did Ladybug tell you she liked me? Ugh!_

“I know what you’re trying to ask,” Marinette said. She had a partial smile, though it was turned away from me slightly as she sighted on a flowering bush. “No, she didn’t confess her undying love for you.”

“Ah,” I said, vaguely feeling let down.

“I got the impression that she cared very much for you, though.” She paused. “And that she considers you a very, very, _very_ close friend.”

“Friend,” I repeated. Even surrounded by the beauty of the garden at Versailles, I was suddenly feeling anything but cheery. But then again, why would Ladybug say anything other than that to Marinette?

I grimaced, suddenly realizing that I (or Chat, rather) had done just that when I’d confessed my feelings for Ladybug to Marinette. Clearly Ladybug was far more tactful. And discreet.

Going for valor now myself, I decided to let the thread die there and tried to enjoy the rest of the morning. We’d not been specific about details, but around lunchtime we fell into a natural ending for the visit. My wider plan had envisioned taking Marinette out to lunch, but my mood had shifted and I simply followed her back to the Metro station and greater Paris.

As we climbed the steps of the Trocadero station, Marinette paused and pulled me off to the side and out of the flow of traffic. “You’ve been pretty quiet, Chat,” she said, concern in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” She suddenly looked worried. “I said something, didn’t I?”

“No, Purrincess,” I replied. “Not exactly.” I weighed what I was feeling and plowed ahead. “I’m in this weird spot with Ladybug; I was hoping she had said something to you that would give me a sign one way or the other.” I shrugged. “That doesn’t even sound reasonable, does it?”

She looked at me carefully. “It does,” she said. “I think we all look for little signs from the ones we love.” She looked away, and I had the sense that she might have been talking about herself, too. “In their absence, though, we still move forward.”

“I guess we do,” I said. I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, gently. “Thank you for a wonderful morning,” I said graciously. 

“Ditto, Chat,” she smiled.

I watched her head up the steps and into the sun; I waited a bit, and exited myself, looking for the first alleyway I could find and immediately ducking in. Once I’d ensured the coast was clear, I ripped the hoodie off and shredded the windpants, tossing both items into the nearest dumpster and then stretching out luxuriously for the first time since transforming. A minute longer and I would’ve snapped.

After retrieving my baton and belt and putting both back where they belonged, I slung the backpack over my shoulder and bounded up the side of the building with the intent of returning to the mansion, only to land on the rooftop and find myself face-to-face with Ladybug. “Chat,” she said, smiling. “I thought I’d find you here.”

“No fair, milady,” I said, returning the smile. “You can track me.” I paused. “More importantly, why are _you_ here?” I looked around, anxiously. “Is there an—"

“No,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to see if, well…” she paused, awkwardly. “This is going to sound funny,” she started again. “But I could use the company of my favorite kitty today. If,” she added, “you’re free.”

My eyes had to have lit up. “Of course, milady,” I said. “It would be my honor.”

Ladybug smiled at me. “Great! I’m starving, but after we eat, I hear the flowers at Versailles are blooming…”

I smiled more widely. Somehow, Ladybug had known that I needed to be wanted today. “They are indeed.” I bowed, hand out. “Shall we, milady?”


	9. Birds of a Feather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been fascinated by the idea that Chat Noir is allergic to feathers. Aside from the comedic gold that can provide, it also creates the interesting situation that it could reveal Chat’s true identity in just the wrong situation… like, perhaps, this one… --ep

Father ultimately returned from his long business trip, so my nightly excursions out as Chat were kept to a bare minimum. That proved to be fairly difficult, for after an insanely long period of quiescence, Hawkmoth suddenly stepped it up and threw a succession of akumas at us, at nearly all hours of the day.

A few weeks later, I was dragging pretty hard core. Hawkmoth had kept us _so_ busy that I’d begun fitting in my homework _around_ the akuma attacks, snagging a tablet or a textbook in the brief interludes we were being given. Days started to blend together to a point that most of May went by in a blur. It took an amazing act of self-control not to nod off in class. Any class, for that matter; not just the boring ones.

Fortunately or not, Mister Pigeon’s insertion into our daily akuma routine set into motion another chance for me to get back on target and tackle the Adrien-Marinette issue – though, not without nearly revealing my secret identity.

And all because I was seriously allergic to feathers.

After Ladybug and I successfully returned Monsieur Ramier to his normal form, I’d sneezed my way to an alley close to school to de-transform and help Father complete the judging of the Derby Hat Contest taking place that weekend.

Still rather congested, I arrived in the courtyard to find several contestants waiting for Father. Nathalie and our principle, Monsieur Damocles, were standing off to the side, and my heart sank when I saw Father on the iPad Nathalie was holding. He was supposed to have come in person, but yet again, left his lackies to do the work.

I wound up taking Nathalie and virtual Father around to the contestants, finding myself a bit worried that Marinette had not yet arrived with her entry. As we were reviewing Chloe’s entry, Marinette bounded in with a hatbox and put hers out on display. I tried not to look shocked when I saw it: her design was identical to Chloe’s.

I caught her eye and saw the fury there, and smiled, knowing immediately what had happened. Nathalie turned the tablet toward Marinette’s entry and, predictably, Father exploded.

“Turn the tablet back,” he said, and he re-examined Chloe’s entry. “Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded as I turned the tablet back to Marinette

I didn’t catch much of the rest of the conversation as my eyes had started to water again. 

_Oh my God. Marinette has a _real _feather on her hat!_

The sneeze started to creep up my throat and I swallowed as hard as I could to prevent it from erupting. If I hadn’t been playing the dutiful son, I would have put a finger to my nose and run from the room. Blinking hard, I tried to smile as Marinette was declared the winner, and continued to hold that smile as she handed me the hat to put on.

There was no way to hold it back at that point, and I sneezed, violently, hoping it didn’t sound too similar to a certain Chat just a little earlier in the afternoon. Despite my congestion, I thought it looked like Marinette was so happy I was actually holding the hat, she wasn’t paying attention to anything else. I kept smiling but quickly handed the hat off to Nathalie and slipped away from the crowd as Father made arrangements for Marinette to participate in our next fashion show.

The sedan was parked at the bottom of the staircase to the school, and I slid into the backseat to wait for Nathalie. While I sat there, I decided the contest might be a great excuse to pay a visit to Marinette; assuming she’s be okay with a surprise, I decided on another cannoli order. Just as Nathalie slid into the backseat, I’d managed to place my order for later pickup in person.

The drive to the mansion was typical, and I trooped up the stairs to my bedroom with the now-standard Nathalie reminder that dinner would be served within the hour. That gave me enough time to take an antihistamine or two before settling in to eat, alone, again. Oddly, I couldn’t help the feeling of anticipation that I would be spending some time with Marinette. Even though my heart belonged to Ladybug, it was hard not to see how great Marinette was in her own right. And, as I tried to remind myself, Chat was just trying to help and didn’t have a horse in this race.

I hung out playing X-box for a bit before deciding it was late enough to sneak away. My phone went into the dock and I held out my ring.

“Plagg – claws out!”

The poor guy was flat on his back atop the coffee table, mowing down on Camembert; my final sight of him before the transformation glow overtook me was an envious glare he gave the final piece sitting on the cutting board.

Once transformed, I bounded out the window, used the fence as a launch point, and sailed into the evening. First stop: Philippe’s Italian Bistro, a favorite that I went to often as Adrien and was starting to frequent as Chat. I dropped in on the side door that gave access to the kitchen. 

I knocked, and a white-shirted sous chef I’d not met yet answered. His eyes went wide when he saw me. “Chat… Chat Noir?”

“I’m picking up an order…?” I said. “Order two-two-seven-six?”

“Uh, right,” he said, and he ducked back into the kitchen, returning quickly with a small paper bag with handles. “Here you go, Monsieur Noir,” he said, bowing.

“Merci,” I replied as I bounded up and away, heading toward the Bakery. I’d broken my agreement with Marinette and hadn’t texted beforehand, but hoped that she’d be less angry once I showed her the pastries. 

I was lucky and spied her on the balcony as I neared the building; I tacked around and gently landed atop one of the many chimneys. “Good evening, Purrincess,” I said quietly, tail flicking. “I bring tidings of –”

My eyes widened, watering in the process, and before I could suppress it, a massive sneeze wracked my frame, completely knocking me off the chimney. I dropped unceremoniously to the tile, flattening the cannoli beneath me, and somehow managed to sneeze three more times.

_Oh my God. She has the hat out here._

“Chat!” Marinette exclaimed, dropping to my side.

I sneezed again, though I’d been able to turn away from her before doing it. “Pahincersh,” was the best I could get out before sneezing again, my nose just as congested as before, despite the antihistamines.

She tried to help me up, but the damn hat was in her other hand, and I kept sneezing, violently, as I lifted myself off the smashed bag, trailing little bits of ricotta in the process. I wound up leaning against the railing, and weakly pointed at the hat, saying simply, “Kitty kryptonite!”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she immediately picked up her hat. “Be right back,” she said, and ducked through the skylight to presumably store the hat in her bedroom. She returned a moment later with a box of tissue and a glass of water. “Here,” she offered.

I dabbed at my nose, which was running like Niagara Falls. “Sorry,” I said nasally, using my free paw to indicate both the ruined dessert surprise and my severe allergic reaction. “I’d heard about your victory today and wanted to help you celebrate.”

“That was thoughtful, Chat. But how did you find out…?” she started to ask.

“I know people,” I said simply, trying to smile my wide disarming Chat grin. It had something less than its normal effect, owing to my swollen eyes and running nose.

“Chloe almost ruined it,” she said, sitting next to me against the railing. “I can’t believe she stole my design.”

“She’s a piece of work,” I agreed, before realizing Chat might not necessarily know that. “From what I’ve seen,” I hastily added. I looked down at the front of my costume, which was now in need of dry cleaning (were that an option). “Well, I certainly made a mess of this, didn’t I?”

Marinette leaned against me, creating a tiny thrill I hadn’t expected. “It was still thoughtful,” she said. “Thanks.” 

She paused. “I had no idea you were allergic to birds,” she added after a moment, suddenly looking distant. “I have a friend at school who is also allergic, too.”

_Uh, oh_.

“I bet we have the same allergy vet,” I laughed, knowing exactly who she was talking about and knew for a fact that we did have the same doctor. “It’s pretty common,” I said nonchalantly, and went for the cheesy pun to distract her. “I get clawsitively miserable when I get close to them.”

She rolled her eyes, as I’d hoped, and went for the bait. “I thought cats ate birds?”

I was struck at how similar her question was to something Ladybug had observed earlier. “It’s the feathers, actually,” I pointed out. “I _love_ birds. Especially when they are roasted, with those little baby potatoes and tiny carrots…?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a smile crinkling up her expression. “Someone seems to be hungry,” she said.

“I had dinner,” I replied defensively. My traitorous stomach took that moment to let out a loud rumble. Clearly I’d not taken in enough calories yet to offset my exploits as Chat today.

Marinette laughed. “I might be able to come up with something to replace your surprise,” she added. “Give me a couple of minutes?”

“I’ve got some time before I have to meet up with Ladybug,” I said.

She got up and disappeared again through her skylight; I took her absence as a chance to try and remove the worst of the mess from my costume using the tissues she’d brought me. The ricotta smelled fantastic, which made me truly sad to have crushed them out of existence.

I could smell what she was bringing long before she poked her head back out of the skylight. Back on Saint Patrick’s Day, Ladybug had surprised me with the very same pastry. I was smiling broadly when Marinette popped back out of the skylight. “Belgian chocolate-filled croissants,” I said appreciatively. “How did you know those were my favorite?”

Marinette smiled as she sat beside me once more and offered me the plate. “A little bug told me,” she laughed.

My masked green eyes narrowed as I took a nip of the croissant. “What else did Ladybug say while I was sleeping off the catnip?” I asked, pointedly. Once again, I was finding my original reason for dropping in being subsumed – but I had to know.

“Oh, I know _all_ your secrets now, Chat,” Marinette teased. “You slept for hours; that’s a lot of time to fill.”

I groaned inwardly. “Like _what_?”

“Well…” she said, smiling wider as she nibbled on her pastry. “She said you annoy her to pieces at times.”

“I’ve heard that,” I replied. “What else?”

“You’re kind, compassionate, a little bit cocky, and entirely to uninhibited.”

I raised a masked eyebrow. “She said all of that?”

“Yeah,” Marinette nodded. “But she also said you were the most loyal person she knew,” she added, pausing. “And that you were a treasured friend.”

“You mentioned that ‘friend’ part last time we talked,” I frowned. “But it’s nice to know she’s thought about me – however little it might be.”

Marinette reached an arm to my bicep. “Chat, listen to me for a moment,” she started. “I’m not betraying her confidence when I tell you she thinks about you all the time.”

I raised the other masked eyebrow in surprise. “All—”

“Not the way you might think,” Marinette hastily added. “Look, I know how you feel about her; I would venture a guess that she’s just not in the right place to reciprocate…” she trailed off, a thoughtful expression in her deep blue eyes.

I cocked an expectant feline ear toward her. “Is there a ‘yet’ at the end of that, Purrincess?”

“It’s funny you should ask,” she said. “Maybe there is? I’m not sure now,” she murmured, and then suddenly shook off whatever she was feeling and looked directly at me. “All I know is that she cares very deeply for you, too, Chat.”

I stared at what was left of my croissant. “Thank you for telling me,” I said, conflicting emotions in my soul. “It’s nice to know, but I also wish she’d have just told all this to me directly.”

“Maybe she will, kit—Chat,” Marinette replied. She leaned her head against my shoulder. “Maybe she will…”


	10. Melting Hearts, Melting Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not a secret that I am a huge fan of the S2 episode Glaciator. I’ve borrowed the Notre Dame-facing rooftop shown in that episode and used it throughout my other stories; Chat’s initial appearance on the Bakery roof patio in this episode spawned the initial scene from Elegy. So I wondered: what might have happened if we’d seen an extended version of that episode? Forgive me for moving ahead in the official show timeline in order to tell this particular story. –ep

“Adrien?”

I was just about to get into the sedan when I heard my name called, and turned. At the top of the steps for the bridge was Marinette, holding her own Andre special and looking at me quizzically.

“Marinette?” I said, starting back up the steps. “I didn’t see you! How long have you been here?”

“I was just leaving,” she said, “and…” she blushed slightly, continuing, “well, I heard your car pull up and hung around to see if it was really you.” She blushed deeper. “Sorry,” she said.

I’d made it to the step she was on, smiling. “Why be sorry?” I asked. “I’m always happy to see you. You know that, right?”

Her eyes popped wider. “I guess I do,” she said.

It had been months now since I’d accidentally heard the voicemail she’d never intended me to hear. As Chat, I’d repeatedly tried to find a way to make it easier for her to approach Adrien but had never really managed to seal the deal. In fact, I’d actually given up on my original mission and had been spending most of my free nights hanging out with Marinette – as Chat. I was well aware that she had significant feelings for me (as Adrien), but also felt like she’d become more comfortable around me (as Adrien) through my relationship with her (as Chat). 

Confusing? Maybe. But it seemed to be working.

I, on the other hand, had finally made some progress with Ladybug. Two nights prior, she’d stood me up for dinner; I’d been incensed, but had put it aside to fight the akumatized ice cream maker. Once it was over, Ladybug had joined me the following evening on my favorite rooftop. While she hadn’t exactly told me she would _never_ love me, she had also finally told me how much I meant to her. Sure, she’d said that her heart was for someone else, and yeah, she thought it was Chat that was in love with her, but I conveniently told myself I could work with what she’d given me, and push that other guy right out of her life (whoever that might be).

I’d been flying pretty high after leaving her on that rooftop. So much so that I’d decided to celebrate the following afternoon with the ice cream I’d not gotten two nights earlier. It wasn’t lost on me that my concoction, hand created by Andre, aptly represented the girl of my dreams. Now, as I looked at what Marinette was holding, I started to try and puzzle out who her true love was supposed to be.

_Huh. Green – for the eyes? Pink – lips, maybe. What an odd combina--- _

My eyes widened. As a model, I’d seen enough photos of myself to know my personal coloring. But I also was well aware that someone else would fit those colors, too. 

_Oh no. No... no, no, no! I was only trying to help!_

I looked up at Marinette, who had apparently said something to me. “Sorry?” I said, keeping my smile frozen in place.

She pointed at my ice cream. “Those are very unusual flavors mixed together,” she said. 

“Uh, yeah,” I replied, holding it up again, and despite myself, smiled a bit. “It represents someone for sure,” I said, looking back at her across the ice cream. “It…” I trailed off.

At the particular angle I was at, the blue scoop happened to line up with Marinette’s eyes. I’d never noticed that they were the same blue as Ladybug.

“Adrien?” she prompted. 

“Sorry,” I said distractedly. “What was I saying?”

She looked pointedly at my now melting ice cream. “Who is the lucky lady?” she asked. It was a bold question from her.

“La-uh, well, just someone who doesn’t know yet,” I replied, narrowly avoiding possibly revealing my alter ego to her. Chat had spent many, _many_ hours now pining away for Ladybug in Marinette’s company; she was smart enough to connect the dots if I wasn’t careful.

I started scooping huge mouthfuls of the cone, trying to make it less obvious who it had been designed to represent. “I’ve got to go,” I said around bites. 

“Me, too,” she said, smiling. “See you later.”

I hurried back down the steps and into the sedan, hoping beyond hope she’d not caught either my embarrassment or near faux paus.

Later that evening, I was working through some amazingly difficult chemistry problems when there was a gentle knock. So gentle, actually, that I nearly missed it; I turned, and nearly fell out of my chair.

Ladybug was perched at the window, which I’d left open in preparation for bolting later to meet her for patrol. “Mil—Ladybug,” I corrected. “Is something wrong?” I asked, unintentionally falling into the same assumption people made when Chat showed up unexpectedly.

“Nothing, Adrien,” she said. “May I come in?”

I stood up and went over to her, offering a hand to help her down. “Of course,” I said.

She stepped into the space, and we stared at each other for a few seconds, rather uncomfortably, before she spoke again. “I have a conundrum,” she started.

My eyes widened. “Okay,” I said.

“I, uh, can’t tell you how I came into this information, but I’ve recently discovered that someone has fallen for me, deeply.”

_We. Are. Not. About. To. Have. This. Conversation._

I plastered an Adrien Model Smile on my face and tried to be empathetic. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she said, and she moved over to sit down on my couch. Oddly, she took the spot Marinette often used when she visited. 

I came around and sat on the other side. “You don’t feel the same about them, do you?” I asked, heart firmly dropping to my feet.

“No,” she said simply. “But I had no idea that this person felt the way they did.” She looked up at me, and I could see the turmoil of emotion in her eyes. I immediately realized this was not a simple binary discussion and was, in fact, nearly as complicated as my Chat-Ladybug-Marinette triangle. “The thing is, I care about him, deeply, and it wasn’t until he tried to do something wonderfully special that I realized it was not all—”

“Flirting?” I added.

She looked away. “Exactly,” she said. “How did you know?”

_You have no idea._

“Model work,” I said simply. “You see things.”

Ladybug nodded. “I think I hurt him,” she said quietly, and sighed.

“You didn’t,” I said impulsively. 

Ladybug turned toward me. “How would you know?” she asked.

“You are Ladybug,” I said. “From what I’ve… heard about you, that is not in your nature.” I turned away, a thought percolating.

_Could I get away with that? One way to find out._

“And… he told me.”

Her eyes flew wide open and then narrowed. “Explain that,” she said forcefully.

“I… well, Chat’s rescued me a few times, right?”

She nodded.

“So he knows where I live, obviously. He, uh, was looking for a friend to talk to a while back – it was that day the statue in the park was unveiled?”

She nodded again, intently staring at me.

“That was a particularly rough patch for him, and I guess, uh, things were said between the two of you…”

“I remember,” she said.

“Well, suffice it to say he doesn’t have too many people he feels comfortable dropping in on. I’m one of two people he regularly visits, I guess.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who is the other?”

_Not getting that one yet, _I thought.“I didn’t ask,” I shrugged. “Anyway, he stopped in last night and told me about the dinner.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “I wish I’d thought of that. Sounded romantic.”

“It was,” Ladybug said distantly.

“Well, the long and the short of it is, after last night…” I paused. How far should I go?

She looked at me.

“Chat loves you, Ladybug,” I said. “While he knows your heart is elsewhere, he’s willing to work at bringing you around his view on the _meow_atter.”

_Whoops!_

“That’s a direct quote,” I added hastily. Which was true.

Ladybug smiled. “That does sound like him,” she said ruefully, and stood to leave. “I’ve got to run, he’s going to be expecting me shortly.” She paused. “Thank you for being a friend to him,” she continued. “I have a sense he doesn’t have many people he can turn to in this world – either as Chat or in his civilian life.”

“He’s got you,” I observed. “That might be enough.”

She smiled sadly. “Maybe. Good night, Adrien.”

“Good night, mil—Ladybug.”

She tossed her yo-yo out the window and was instantly gone. 

I stood there at the window, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Ladybug? Coming to me for advice? Did I help myself in any way? Either one of me?

I knew I needed to see Marinette again. It bothered me that she might have fallen for Chat, meaning I’d made a bigger problem out of the original issue. And yet, just the thought of spending any time with Marinette warmed my heart and put me into a wonderful frame of mind. Just like I felt when I knew I’d be spending time with Ladybug.

_I’ve messed this up._

Ladybug and I clearly had a similar problem. Maybe I could talk to her about it during patrol.

Plagg floated up from wherever he’d been hiding. “Odd that she visited, don’t you think?” he said. His little kwami face was inscrutable, betraying nothing. And yet, I knew he knew _something_.

“We’re going to be late,” I said curtly. “Plagg – claws out!”


	11. Swapping Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a tough week for the author, who needed a bit of cheering up. I understand that Marinette is especially good in this department, so let’s pay her a visit, shall we? Especially since Chat needs her, too. --ep

Ladybug’s unexpected visit had thrown me, and I was running _very_ late for my nightly patrol with her. So late, in fact, I skipped picking up our traditional coffee options and sailed through the three-quarter moonlit night as quickly as my feline abilities would let me. It wasn’t far over the rooftops of Paris, so I didn’t have much time to consider what to do with all of the information I’d suddenly come into.

Seeing Marinette’s ice cream had clued me in that Chat may have grown just a tad too close to her; knowing her feelings about Adrien, that felt like a potential disaster, emotionally, at some point down the road – and one that I would not want to wish on Marinette. What to do about it was a pressing concern of mine. Idly, it did cross my mind that since Adrien wasn’t returning her affections, there wasn’t anything _necessarily_ wrong with Chat stepping in. Until, of course, such time as she found out Chat was Adrien. 

Ladybug had told me exactly how she felt about Chat during her impromptu counseling session with me; I was still amazed that she’d felt comfortable confiding in Adrien when she was clearly _not _comfortable being that up front with Chat. The irony wasn’t lost on me, since Chat was essentially doing the same with Marinette, though I could nearly convince myself I wasn’t telling Marinette anything I’d not said directly to Ladybug. It was more that Ladybug hadn’t thought I was serious, until a few nights ago.

I was soaring over a rooftop when my baton phone beeped. I shortened my arc and dropped atop a chimney flue, settling into a perfectly balanced cat crouch, and clicked it open. “LB?” I asked. “I know I’m late – sorry about that – but I’m almost there.”

“Chat, not a problem,” she said, smiling. “I was just thinking we might actually take the night off. Paris can probably spot us a solid after keeping them from becoming snow cones.”

Inwardly, I groaned. Ladybug seemed to have a knack for cancelling on me when I needed to see her the most. “If you think it’s best, milady,” I said. “I’ll keep the all-news station on just in case something does crop up.”

“Purrfect,” she punned.

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “That’s my line!”

“See you to_meow_rrow,” she added as she clicked off.

I laughed at the blank screen and snapped the baton shut, sliding it back into place in the small of my back, and unsure entirely what to do next. I’d wrapped up most of my homework, so there was no pressing need to go home; I’d really wanted to talk to Ladybug, but that option was out now. I smiled, realizing the decision had already been made and knowing exactly where I’d wind up as soon as I leapt back into the night.

The Bakery was on the opposite side of the city from where I’d been, but I made the trip in short order and landed atop yet another chimney flue. Marinette, however, was not on the rooftop patio, despite all of the lights being on. I sniffed the air, and something intriguing was in the oven. Intriguing enough to investigate.

I had no where else to be. Why not?

Vaulting from the chimney to the railing, I took another leap and landed in a crouch by the skylight. Gently, I scratched the door three times, and then sat back in my cat stance, pasting an expectant expression on my face, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

After about ten minutes, I started to feel a bit foolish, and realized I really should have kept to my promise to text her before dropping by. As much as I would have loved to think her world revolved around Chat Noir’s visits, the reality was she had a life outside of me. 

I pushed myself up into a more human-style two-legged stance and walked to the railing, intending to vault back into the night and return to the mansion. The view of Notre Dame stopped me, and I spent a moment leaning against the rail, head in paws, taking in the view. I was deep into cosmic thoughts when my feline ears heard the steps on the stairway, and then the skylight opening.

“Chat?” Marinette asked. “How long have you been out here?” I heard her pulling out her phone. “Did you text? I must have missed it…”

“Not long,” I lied easily. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d chance a visit.” I paused. “Your view is always amazing, you know that, right?”

She came up beside me, carrying a tray of whatever I’d been smelling. “Somehow, I knew you’d be here tonight,” she laughed. “You always seem to know when I’m baking.”

I turned and smiled. “Cats know these things,” I said. “I’m happy to sample for you, Princess. What is it tonight?”

She offered up the tray. “Something new – I’m trying my hand at a ‘lemon cooler tea cookie,’” she explained.

My eyes flicked to the tray, where about a dozen lemon-wedge shaped cookies had been laid out, softly dusted with powdered sugar. I knew better than to ask if she’d shaped them by hand. Instead, I looked back at her. “May I?”

“Please. I’d like your opinion.”

I snagged one close to me and took a bite – my feline enhanced taste buds exploded with the subtle lemon flavor, reminding me of a merengue pie I’d once had years ago. “Wow,” I said between bites. “This is amazing.” I snagged another from the tray. “Two claws. Way up.”

“Is that good?” she asked, unsure of my metaphor.

“Very.” I took a third, trying to pace myself. “Marinette,” I said, venturing into dangerous waters as I munched, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” she said. 

“You know I consider you a close friend, right?”

“Yes,” she smiled.

“I don’t quite know how to ask this without it sounding lame,” I fumbled forward, “but… do you feel the same way? About me?”

_Smooth, Chat._

Marinette looked at me oddly. “Where is this going, Chat?”

_Arrrgh! I should have kept quiet._

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I mean, you know I’m in love with –”

“Ladybug,” she finished. “Yes.”

“Even though she still doesn’t feel the same,” I added, ruefully. “I guess I was worried that you might think I was moving in on your main squeeze to compensate,” I added.

“Moving in--?” she started, and then put a hand to her mouth, smothering a smile. “Oh! Oh, I see why you are worried,” she said.

“You do?” I snagged a fourth cookie. I freely admit to being a nervous eater. “I mean, I truly enjoy all the time I get to spend with you, Marinette. I just don’t want you to…” I paused.

_Huh. Now that I am here, trying to say this, I’m not sure I believe it in my heart._

I _did_ enjoy my time with Marinette. And as Chat, I was free to show her the side of me that Adrien never could. Was it actually possible I wanted to muscle my alter-ego out of the picture? It wasn’t like I was making any significant progress with Ladybug. Except, of course, that we were the same person at the end of the day. How could I possibly be feeling jealous?

_Complicated!_

I edited on the fly. “…forget how much you mean to me. You really are a true… friend.”

She smiled. “I feel the same way, Chat,” she nodded.

We both turned back to watch the lights glitter on the cathedral. The ice cream was still on my mind, but something had shifted inside me and I no longer felt like I wanted to dissuade her attention. I really didn’t understand why; this felt the right move. I wasn’t exactly giving up on Ladybug; it was more a recognition of my own emotional needs. But I was well aware that Marinette had her hopes pinned on Adrien.

I didn’t know how I’d do it, but somehow, I’d have to find a way to tell her she’d hooked Adrien.

I took a fifth cookie. “These cookies are pawsitively clawsome,” I said.

“Really, Chat?” she laughed. “I know you can do better.”

I looked at her, seeing her in a new light. “No,” I said, “I think I am doing just fine…”


	12. Sprained Relations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s never easy keeping a secret identity, well, secret; as Chat is about to find out, it’s even harder when you’re trying to mask an injury your alter-ego shouldn’t have and you go up against Marinette. -- ep

I sagged down onto my couch lengthwise, keeping my swollen ankle elevated. I’d sprained it pretty badly when I’d tackled Ladybug to protect her from Riposte’s attack, but I’d been Adrien at the time and that seemed to have prevented the Ladybug Magic from repairing it when we’d cleared the akuma. 

Though I healed much faster as a Miraculous holder, it looked like it would still be a day or two before I’d be back to normal, and that was a bit worrisome. I’d managed to comport myself adequately with Riposte, hiding the extent of my injury from Ladybug, but Chat Noir wasn’t going to be vaulting, leaping or bounding anywhere anytime soon.

I smacked my head against the pillow of the couch. This was going to suck. And there was no use in hoping that Hawkmoth wouldn’t find some way to cash in; he seemed to have a knack for knowing the worst possible time to throw an akuma at us. 

I smacked my head against the pillow again, and then sat up. Even surrounded by everything I had in my bedroom, it was the _last_ place I wanted to hang out, even if injured. Chat Noir had the freedom of the city, and I as twisted my head to the windows, I very much wanted to be somewhere out there watching the sunset tonight.

Smiling, I reminded myself there were other ways for Chat to get around that didn’t necessarily involve vaulting, leaping or bounding.

“Plagg, want to go for a walk?” I asked my kwami.

He’d unintentionally mirrored my position on the coffee table as he (yet again) polished off an entire wheel of cheese. “No,” he said as expected. “One: I’m not the Dog Kwami. Two: I think I’ve done my part for King and Coun—”

“Then I guess I’ll have to cancel this order,” I said, pulling out my phone and waggling a finger over it.

“Order?” he said, turning his small green eyes in my direction. “Order for what?”

“I guess we’ll never know now, will we,” I said.

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t come between me and cheese,” he warned. “You’ll lose.”

“Oh!” I said with mock surprise. “Look at that! The super-rare version you like has already shipped and will be here tomorrow.”

All traces of anger evaporated as Plagg immediately flew over to my shoulder, confirming with his own eyes the order was coming. “Can you track it?” he asked, looking at me. “I’d hate for it to be lost in transit.”

“Yes,” I said. “Now, can we go for a walk?”

He rolled his eyes. “Just be careful on that ankle, all right? I can’t do anything about it for you.”

“I’m not planning on getting into hand-to-hand combat tonight,” I said defensively. “I just don’t want to hang out here.”

He nodded his little kwami head.

“Plagg – claws out!”

\-- -- --

It took much longer than I thought, but through a combination of clawing my way to the skyline and then helicoptering with my baton, I got in an impressive upper body workout en route to my second favorite rooftop in Paris. Tiled, and at a slant, it had a nearly unobstructed view of the Eiffel Tower and the setting sun behind it. Normally I would have jammed my boots into the tile to keep my position, but tonight I’d carefully balanced myself on the apex, laying on my side with my injured ankle up on a convenient ornamental pediment. It wasn’t terribly comfortable, but the view was worth it.

As the sky darkened, waves of rose-color beams radiated around the Tower and shifted ever darker. I sighed contentedly. This was better than any game I could play on my Xbox. I was so enraptured by the coloring that my feline ears nearly missed the subtle sounds of sketching coming from close at hand. 

I pivoted slightly. In the gathering dusk, I could see a familiar figure in profile on the flat rooftop of the building next to the one I was on. The last rays of the day were highlighting her hair and accenting her face as she alternated between the scene of the sun behind the Tower, and what she had to have been drawing on her sketchpad. I looked around – there was no easy access to that rooftop. How had Marinette gotten up there?

And more importantly, what did that sketch look like?

I had to know, and without really contemplating my actions, I sprung up with the intent of vaulting over to her; I landed full force on my ankle and let out a howl at the sharp pain that ensued and missed my launch point entirely. I stumbled forward, claws out to prevent a worse fate, and managed to snag the tiles with a long, shrieking noise before halting my slide into oblivion.

My boots were hanging over the edge of the roof as I pulled my way back to safety, cheeks inflamed with embarrassment. For Marinette had clearly heard me and had leaned over the edge of her building. “Chat? Is that you?”

“No,” I said glumly, as I crawled my way toward her. Putting any weight on the ankle sent shockwaves through me, so I was now trailing it like an unused appendage. “I’ve been replaced by an inferior clone.”

“Do you need help?” she asked, clearly concerned. “What happened?”

“I sprained my ankle today,” I said without thinking. “I saw you over there and---”

“You _what_?” she said, interrupting me.

Despite the pain, something in her voice stopped me short and caused warning alarms in my head, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. But there was no hiding the injury at this point. Thinking fast as I finally arrived back on the apex of the roofline, I stuck as close to the truth as I could, hoping it sounded plausible. “Ladybug and I took on an akumatized master fencer today,” I said. “It was brutal; I made a misstep during our hand-to-hand and twisted my ankle pretty badly.”

Marinette was staring at me in the fading light. “And yet you kept going?” she said.

“I managed to keep Ladybug from knowing about it,” I nodded. “She’d be furious if she ever found out.”

“I can understand that,” she replied. 

“Yeah,” I concurred. “I heal pretty fast, but it will be a day or two before I’m at full speed again.” I looked at her pleadingly. “You _can’t_ tell anyone about this.”

“That’s why you slid down the railing,” she murmured.

She’d said it so quietly I’d barely registered it with my feline ears. “Sorry?”

“I said, your secret is safe with me.” I prevented a masked eyebrow from raising at her lie.

_What railing? Did she see something today?_

Save for the incident at tryouts for the Fencing Club, I’d not seen Marinette since – in either guise. At least, not knowingly. “Thanks, Princess,” I said. “By the way, how did you get up there?”

“Fire escape,” she said, just a bit too quickly. 

This time, I did raise a masked eyebrow. “Do you want a lift back down?”

“Not in your current state, no,” she replied. “I’ll be just fine, thanks. Which ankle did you injure, exactly?”

That felt like a dangerous question to answer. But the evidence was plain to see. “Left.”

“Huh,” she said thoughtfully. 

Those warning bells were going off again. As the last rays of sunshine dipped below the horizon, I decided it might be wise to make a tactical retreat. I wasn’t sure how, but it felt like I might have revealed a little too much information tonight.

“I’ve got to go,” I said. “Do you mind—”

“You should stop by tomorrow night,” she interrupted. “If you are free.”

I started. She normally didn’t invite me; I generally made the overture. “I was about to suggest that, Princess.”

“Good,” she said, an odd expression on her face. 

“All right,” I replied, out of sorts. I removed the baton from the small of my back and extended it slightly. “Until then, Purrincess,” I said as I helicoptered away from her.

Her response was lost in the whirl of my baton.


	13. Itch Scratched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What does Marinette know? Did Chat let himself out of the bag, so to speak? And would that be a bad thing? Let’s check back in with him and find out, shall we? --ep

I’d put up a silent thankful prayer that it was the weekend, allowing my ankle a few extra days to heal before I’d be seen at school again. After what felt like a near disaster last night with Marinette, the last thing I needed was her seeing Adrien limping around the courtyard. It would be nearly like wearing a “Claws Out” t-shirt, announcing to the world I was Chat Noir.

Playing it safe, I alternated between ice and pain relievers all day, and kept the ankle elevated as much as possible, barely moving from the couch. I’d not set a specific time for my visit with Marinette, but Chat typically appeared after my routine patrol with Ladybug, which in itself was likely to be a challenge as well. As much better as it felt, I knew I was still not capable of putting a lot of weight on it. 

As the afternoon wore on, I weighed reaching out to Ladybug and cancelling for the evening, but was torn. I never cancelled, ever, and she’d likely be suspicious as to why. And try as I might, I could not bring myself to lie to her about anything. Even, at the end of the day, my true identity.

After having dinner brought to my bedroom, I spent about an hour carefully walking the space, seeing how much I could use my ankle. It was still painful, but tolerable; I’d not be crossing any alleys tonight in a single bound, and hoped that we’d have another non-akuma evening.

1800 arrived and I transformed to Chat, pulled myself to the window, and tentatively tried to leap to the fence. I missed and splatted against the wrought iron like a squashed kitty, sliding ignominiously to the ground. Ego now equally as bruised as my ankle, I hauled out the baton and helicoptered back to the skyline, resigned that I would be unable to hide my injury from Ladybug.

Being cautious, I dropped out of the helicopter at street level two blocks from our meeting spot, used back alleys to walk to our building and clawed my way up to the rooftop. Ladybug was already there, waiting for me, and turned as I came over the edge. I nonchalantly balanced on the edge instead of crossing the space to her as I normally would. “Milady,” I greeted.

“Kitty,” she said, moving over to me. “You’re late!”

I laughed. “Traffic was really bad tonight,” I said. “Did you see the birds I had to get through?”

The joke fell flat as she looked at me with a skeptical glare. “But you clawed up the side of the building,” she observed, masked eyes narrowed. “Did you actually _walk_ here?”

Cheeks flaming, I adjusted myself slightly on the wall. “It was a nice evening,” I said. “Who wouldn’t?”

She continued to look at me. Hard.

The great Chat Noir crumbled under her withering glare.

“All right,” I said, throwing my paws up. “I hurt my ankle battling Riposte with you,” I admitted. “I didn’t want you to worry about it.”

She continued to glare. “Were you _ever_ planning on telling me?”

I looked away, cheeks further inflamed. “It’s my job to protect you, milady. Not the other way around.”

Something shifted for her, and her tone went softer. “How bad is it?” she asked, as she leaned next to me.

“I can’t put a lot of weight on it at the moment,” I replied. “It’s better than yesterday.” I looked back at her. “I don’t quite know why it didn’t repair when you cleared everything with Miraculous Ladybug.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “When, _exactly_, did you injure it?” she asked, thoughtfully.

“Uh…” I started, searching for a truth I could tell her. “While we were dueling, I deflected a blow that had been intended for you,” I said, “and landed funny.”

“At the museum?”

I nodded. Not saying anything meant I wasn’t _exactly_ lying, right?

I could see she was replaying the fight in her mind, and fortunately, there were a few times when that had been the case. I just hoped she didn’t have eidetic memory that could replay the fight move-for-move. “Well, you should probably stay off it a bit longer then,” she said a length. “Let’s cancel until Tuesday, barring anything Hawkmoth might do.”

I nodded again. “Makes sense, milady. Thank you for understanding.”

“Do you need help getting back?” she asked. “I could carry you… well, somewhere close to where you need to be.”

“No,” I said, also realizing this was a chance for me to drop in on Marinette. “I’ll be fine.”

She smiled. “Call if you need anything, okay?” she said as she pulled out her yo-yo.

“I will.”

And then she was gone.

I continued to sit there on the edge of the roof. She’d taken it better than I’d expected, but at the end of the day, I could feel her disappointment that I’d not told her in the first place. That would’ve been impossible, of course, since I had injured it in front of her. As Adrien.

_What a tangled web!_

I pulled out my baton and accessed the messaging system.

** _Chat:_ ** _ Still on for tonight?_

I waited. It took longer than normal for Marinette to reply; my stomach was hoping that meant she’d been baking. Then the baton beeped:

** _Purrincess:_ ** _ Hey, just saw this. Yeah, c’mon over._

I snapped the baton shut and extended it for helicopter mode, and flew my way directly to the Bakery, gently lowering myself to the balcony patio, eschewing my normal chimney entrance. My biceps were burning pretty hardcore as I snapped the baton back to normal length.

Marinette was on her chaise; my feline nose failed to detect any freshly baked goodies in the vicinity. I tried not to show my disappointment. 

“How’s the ankle?” she asked.

“Better,” I said, “but I had to tell Ladybug about it tonight. She was a little annoyed with me for keeping it from her; she’s also making me take a break from our nightly carousing for a bit.”

“Sounds sensible,” Marinette nodded, then inclined her head toward the tile. “Sit down, Chat.”

I folded myself into my nearly normal patient cat stance on the tile, though I kept the injured ankle out. 

“So, tell me again how you injured that ankle,” she said.

_Didn’t I go over this already?_

Nonplussed, I repeated what I’d said earlier to Ladybug. “I was dueling an akuma with Ladybug, and deflected a blow that was meant for her. I landed funny.”

She nodded, but those blue eyes sparkled with a bit of… something. “Yesterday, you said you were in hand-to-hand combat.”

My cheeks reddened, indicating how poor a liar I was. “Did I?” I laughed, nervously. “Guess I was trying to impress you, Princess.”

Marinette continued to stare at me. “You’ve never needed to impress me, Chat,” she said. “Ever.” She paused. 

If it were possible, the temperature on the deck downshifted a few degrees.

“Why are you lying to me?”

I stared back, dumbfounded. What could I say? 

_Hey, just so you know, I’m really Adrien, the guy you have a crush on. I hurt myself saving Ladybug, who I have a crush on, but I was Adrien at the time and I didn’t want her to know I’m also Chat. Just like I don’t want you to know that Chat is also Adrien. And I now realize I have a crush you, too. And I would love you to now know that I am Adrien. But the world would probably end in a puff of smoke if I did tell you, not to mention Ladybug would kill me, so…_

I took a deep breath and tried to thread the needle. “There are certain… obligations that come with being a superhero,” I said. “One is to protect those we care about from danger.”

She nodded.

“This,” I waved a paw toward my ankle, “is a fairly obvious clue to anyone who is paying attention,” I continued. “Clearly, if I am injured, my civilian alter-ego is as well.” 

I looked back at her. “As I think I’ve already made plain, I care deeply about you, Marinette. Right now, it’s not safe for you to know who I am under this mask. Maybe, someday, there will be a point where that will not be the case. But for now,” I said, sadly, “I can only be Chat Noir to you. My poor attempt at hiding the provenance of my injury is my way of keeping you safe until you _can_ learn my true identity.”

I searched her face, saw compassion, and even understanding in her eyes. “And if I already think I know who you are?” she asked. “What do we do about _that_?”

_Ah, _I thought. _Subtle, but that confirms I’ve made a few too many mistakes._

Searching her eyes, I could see there _was_ a truth there; if she didn’t know outright, she had a very strong suspicion that she was very close to confirming it courtesy of my big mouth or any other silly actions on my part. Like, say, spraining another ankle.

I thought about that, and found myself realizing I was totally okay with Marinette knowing who I was; while it neatly solved the Marinette-loves-Adrien problem I’d been grappling with for months, though, it would put me in a bit of a pickle with my own feelings for Ladybug. 

Except I also had the dawning realization that Chat had fallen, and fallen _hard_, for Marinette.

_How are you going to work that one out, Chat? Good luck splitting yourself in two._

Oddly, and with a serenity I didn’t understand quite yet, I _knew_ I’d figure it out.

I smiled. “I trust you, Purrincess, as much as I trust Ladybug,” I said genuinely. “Even if I believed you did, I know you’d protect my secret until the time is right.”

Marinette stood from the chaise and came over, then settled in cross-legged next to me. “I can live with that,” she said, leaning her head against my shoulder. “As long as you can, too.” 

She reached up and started to scratch behind one of my feline ears, a sensation I’d not experienced before – at least, not awake. My eyes widened and then closed in the insane bliss from her touch. Something else fell into place in my heart, and for some reason, I knew I wasn’t betraying my feelings for Ladybug. There was space for both Marinette and Ladybug aplenty.

“Yes,” I said, understanding what she was saying on multiple levels, “I can live with that.”


	14. The Rooftop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing the flames engulf Notre Dame affected me greatly. I can’t imagine for even a single moment what this must feel like for the people of Paris; having such an iconic structure that is so closely identified with the City of Lights suffer is heartbreaking, no matter your personal beliefs. This is a special chapter to help me – well, all of us, really - through this moment. –ep

I dropped softly down on the tile, gently carried my special cargo over to the far side of the rectangular roof, and carefully knelt down to place Ladybug’s back against the wrought iron railing. I quickly settled in behind her, pulling her head against my chest in a gentle embrace; I could hear her regular heartbeat with my feline ears, and felt her chest rise and fall against mine. Only then did I allow myself to look back.

The flames had long since died down, but the burning embers of Notre Dame gave the grand cathedral an otherworldly glow. My favorite perch had long given me spectacular vistas, especially just at dusk when the glittering spots lit up the flying buttresses; now, it was illuminated by the harsh glare of the temporary work lights the first responders had brought in to battle the blaze late into the evening.

We’d helped out as best as we could; at the end of the day, though, not even Ladybug Magic could make much of a dent in the progress of the fire, although she had thrown everything she had at it. So much so, she’d collapsed after Lucky Charm/Miraculous Ladybug try; it was the only way I’d been able to pull her away from the cathedral, earrings chirping, genuinely fearing for her and her kwami. 

I was covered in soot myself, having tried to save what I could from the flames before the firefighters arrived. Fortunately, many of the most important relics and artwork had already been relocated due to the renovation underway, but a few precious items had remained – and there had been plenty of tourists around who needed to be guided away to safety so the first responders could deal with the situation.

Ladybug’s earrings chirped their final warning. I had no choice – I wasn’t about to leave her, but I also knew this was neither the time nor the place for me to find out who was under that polka-dotted mask. I held her closer, smelled the creosote that had impregnated itself into her hair, and squeezed my eyes shut.

I heard and felt the electric energy as she de-transformed, and continued to keep my eyes firmly closed. I was pretty sure I felt a small, kwami-like hug on a bicep – it was furtive, but enough to let me know Ladybug’s companion was well enough. I had no idea what it would want to eat, nor did I have anything on offer; I’d have to hope LB would awaken soon and sort it out for me. 

I put my chin on Ladybug’s head, rocking her ever so slowly. Holding her close was starting to help me cope with the scope of the disaster; I’d put it into a small box, but now, the sense of loss for my city was almost overwhelming. Somehow, we – Chat Noir and Ladybug – would help the city heal, but first _I’d_ have to cope with the nearly inconceivable loss of a genuine piece of Paris. It had survived much to get this far, eight-hundred-plus years from construction, and I had to have faith it would continue onward for another eight-hundred in some form.

The acrid smell of smoke was finally clearing from my feline olfactory nerves, and the scented notes that I associated with Ladybug started to filter into my senses. They were subtly different now that she’d transformed back to her civilian identity, but I could still pick out the familiar triad of vanilla, sugar and exotic spices so unique to my partner. It was a comfortable familiarity that I needed.

Hugging her closer, I felt her stir in my arms. “Chat?” she asked.

“Right here, milady,” I said quietly. “You gave me a bit of a scare.”

She went rigid. “Chat – I transformed! In front of you!”

“Sort of,” I said. “Yes, you transformed, and I’ve been here with you the whole time.” I paused. “But I’ve been a gentlecat about it.”

I felt her twist around. “Oh God. Have you been sitting like that this entire time?”

“Yes,” I said simply.

I felt her reach a hand up and clasp it over my gloved paw. “Thanks,” she said.

Her head turned toward the direction of the cathedral, and I heard a catch in her breath. “My God, Chat,” she said, her body suddenly convulsed with a sob. “There’s just nothing to say. It’s… it’s terrible.”

I rocked her gently again, using my other paw to stroke her hair. “I know,” I said. “We did what we could, and the first responders did the rest.”

Mentally, I saw in my mind the cathedral as it had been; the way I would always think of it. “Soaring toward the heavens,” I murmured, trying to recall some prose I’d read years ago. “Proudly welcoming worshippers from all faiths and backgrounds/a symbol of the best parts of all of us/a symbol to all of us.”

Ladybug twisted again. “Is that a poem?”

“Maybe,” I smiled sadly. “I just can’t recall from whom.”

“It must have been a beautiful piece,” she said softly.

“Just like the structure itself,” I agreed.

“Like it _was_,” she muttered.

I hugged her again. “Like it _will_ be. Like it has _always_ been.”

“How can you be so sure?” she said, choking back another sob.

“We are a resilient people, Parisians,” I replied, trying to radiate a certainty that I was not entirely feeling. “No fire is powerful enough to remove what Notre Dame means to this city. Or the world, for that matter.”

She clasped my hand again, fondly. “You really believe that?”

“Yes,” I said. Somehow, I truly did.

I felt her wipe away the dampness on her face. “Give me a moment to feed Ti—my kwami,” she said, sniffling. “Then I’ll transform again and you can finally open your eyes.”

“Take your time, milady,” I said, gently releasing my arms and allowing her to sit up more. 

I heard her rustle through something (a purse, maybe?) and start to whisper. I flattened my feline ears as a courtesy and tried very hard not to hear whatever it was she was saying. A moment later, she pulled away from me; as she did so, she brushed a gentle kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you,” she said again.

I nodded, closing down my ears again and scrunching my eyes tighter. She whispered her transformation phrase, and my eyelids lit up with the flash of the transformation; I nonetheless patiently waited until she placed her hand on my shoulder to open them.

I looked up at Ladybug. Her masked eyes were rimmed in red, and she was still crying, slightly, but she looked like she was through the worst of the storm. I smiled at her as she helped me to my feet. “I won’t ask if you’re feeling better,” I said as we walked to the opposite railing.

“Good,” she said, “for I must look like the emotional wreck I am.”

“You don’t, milady,” I said firmly. “You look just as beautiful as always.”

We both turned and looked at what was left of Notre Dame. “What a shame,” Ladybug said sadly. “You’ll have to find a new favorite spot.”

I put an arm on her shoulder. “No,” I said. “This spot is still perfect. I’ll keep coming back as long as I’m able to be Chat Noir.” In the gloom, the final embers had gone out; a news helicopter was now circling, it’s bright beam illuminating the hulking ruin.

_Not a ruin,_ I corrected myself. _She’s just resting; waiting for her rebirth._

Ladybug smiled, a bit of cheer there finally, and leaned her head back into my side. “I suppose you’re right,” she said softly, somehow channeling my thoughts. “From here, we can watch Notre Dame be reborn.”

“’We,’ milady?” I asked, shocked. “Are you saying—”

“Yes, Chat,” she said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “I’ll watch it return right here with you.” She looked up at me. “It’s my turn to make sure I’m by _your_ side,” she said, adding insightfully: “You need to see it as much as I do. We can do it together, like we do everything else.”

I smiled. “I do.”

We turned back and watched the helicopter circle, anticipating what the future would bring, but knowing we would face it together – whatever it would be.


	15. Finals Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that the Chat/Marinette ship has truly sailed, Chat is finding more and more excuses to hang with Marinette; as the duo prepare for semester finals, it’s a good thing he knows a thing or two about a subject she could use a little tutoring on. –ep

The endless days of summer were beckoning me, but I had to get through finals before I could even begin to contemplate how I’d be able to spend it with Marinette. I had obligations, of course; between my modelling and the extracurricular activities Father had me scheduled into, I’d practically be as busy as if I’d been at school, but somehow, summer just felt a little lighter.

And, oh yeah, the whole gig as a superhero. I doubted Hawkmoth would take the summer off.

Still, the idea that I _could_ spend more time than normal with Marinette was a fantasy that I was willing to keep alive as I slogged through the massive preparation required for end of term. 

Late one afternoon, I found myself sharing a table at the library with Marinette. That wasn’t unusual; after the ankle injury, I had an inkling that she might now suspect who was under the mask, but the two of us had been dancing around that for weeks now and were comfortable with the ambivalence it provided. But the net result was her becoming increasingly more confident when in the presence of Adrien, and we had grown into an easy relationship with each other. I felt firmly my ministrations as Chat had put her on that _paw_thway, but also hoped it spoke to how she might ultimately handle the truth, if and when I ever got to the point of revealing who Chat really was. 

I was wrapping the last of some thorny Chemistry problems when I heard Marinette bust a series of invectives, using language I seldom heard from her; that was followed by her tossing her stylus at her tablet and stalking away from the table, angrily. I turned my head to see what she was studying, and found a Chat smile quirking at my lips. 

_I might be able to assist here_, I thought as I stood to go after Marinette.

“Hey,” I said, finding her standing at the railing overlooking the courtyard. “I won’t ask what’s up, since from your language I am going to assume you’re having some trouble.”

She stared into the courtyard. “I’m having trouble with the final set of chapters in Chemistry,” she said. “Quantum just makes my mind spin.”

I nodded. “It’s not my strong suit, either,” I said.

She looked at me askance. “You got an ‘A’ last term!”

“Not for lack of trying,” I said, smiling ruefully. “Lots of hours of tutoring, actually.” I looked pensive for a moment. “You know what? I can send him your way if you like.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get,” she said. “Who is it?”

“That I can’t tell you,” I said solemnly. “But you know him. What time should he get to the Bakery?”

“Eight,” she said, still looking at me, a knowing smile quirking at her lips. “And thanks.”

“Of course, princ—Marinette,” I said. 

The more time I spent with her, the easier it was for me to forget which persona I was when I was around her. Sooner or later I was likely to slip up.

\--- --- ---

Later that evening, I dropped onto my favorite chimney flue and into my cat stance. “Good evening, Purrincess,” I said. “I understand you are having trouble with Chemistry.”

Marinette was sitting on her chaise lounge and smiled when she saw me. “I had no idea you knew Adrien Agreste, Chat,” she said as I leapt down to the railing next to her and sat perfectly balanced.

“I’ve known him for a while,” I said lightly, ignoring the implied subtext. “I don’t drop in on him as regularly as you, of course,” I laughed, “but I did get him up to an ‘A’ last term.”

She looked at me, taking in my wild mane, masked green eyes and form-fitting costume, and I could almost hear her wondering if I really did have the chops to be her tutor. I certainly didn’t fit the mold of a brainy nerd. But I knew she was desperate for help, and turned up the brilliance of my smile to seal the deal.

“All right,” she said. 

I leapt over to my now-traditional spot: an upended planter close to the chaise. I’d spent so much time with Marinette over the past few months that her unique set of scent notes normally formed part of the comfortable background of the evening, but tonight, her triad of vanilla, sugar and exotic spices was off. Now closer to her, I could finally detect what it was: for the first time since I’d started visiting her as Chat, she was wearing perfume – one that was heavy enough to overwhelm her personal scent. 

At least, for a human. 

I wrinkled my nose. “You’re not wearing that terrible perfume I see advertised all over Paris, are you?” I mewled, putting a paw over my face. “What possessed you?”

“Adrien?” she said sweetly.

I froze, eyes shooting wide open. “Uh—”

“Yes,” she said as she turned back to her books, although there was a smile tugging at her face. “It was marked down at the department store and took a chance on it. Why? Do you like it?”

“It’s clawful,” I moaned. “Ten out of ten Chats agree: you don’t need it.”

She looked back at me, smile quirking again. “I’ve never asked this, but what do I, uh, smell like to you? Normally, that is.”

I looked at her. This was getting a bit personal. “Well,” I said carefully, “would an answer of ‘you smell like you’ suffice?”

“No.”

“Okay.” I looked away. “I smell three high notes and tons of undernotes,” I explained. “The simplest explanation is that you smell like your bakery: vanilla, sugar, spices.”

“High notes?” she frowned. “You can detect specific elements?”

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “It’s taken me a while to learn how to sort them out, but I’m much better at it now.” I looked back at her, and cracked a half-Chat smile at her. “So, literally, you smell delicious. Normally…”

For a moment, my brain tried to tell me that I’d filed a similar version of that triad of scents away for someone else, but the thought bubbled away from me.

She rolled her eyes. “All right, enough of that. Let’s see what you can do with this problem…”

We spent the next few hours going through the same problems I’d completed in the library earlier, with me carefully pointing out where she was going awry in her work; she wasn’t as far off as she’d thought, and had only needed a subtle claw tip here and there with gentle redirection in her solutions. At length I sat back, stretching luxuriously to get a slight kink out of my back from the angle I’d been sitting at. “Good, that’s exactly it,” I said as we wrapped the last problem. 

“Wow,” she said, closing her notebook. “That wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” She smiled. “So, what do I owe you for your effort?”

“Fur you, no charge, Princess,” I said, popping open the baton to check the time. It was close to midnight. “I should let you get to bed,” I said, getting up to leave.

“Chat, wait,” she said, placing an arm on me. 

“Princess?”

“Do you… do you like movies?”

I looked at her, eyes narrowing. “Are you asking me on a date, Marinette?”

She looked at me. “Yes,” she said. “I suppose I am.”

I scanned her face. She was serious. “I do love movies,” I replied. “Especially science fiction.”

Marinette nodded. “Don’t laugh,” she started, “but I really want to see the latest Marvel movie that just came out.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me get this straight. You want to take a superhero to a movie about a superheroes?”

She nodded, smiling. “What do you think?”

_Was I really going to do that?_ _That’s crazy! There are a million ways that could go wrong._

One look at her eager face, and I realized I’d go anywhere for her. “If you can figure out a way to sneak me in,” I replied, slowly.

Apparently, it was exactly what she had wanted me to say, for she produced a flyer from a theater just down the street from her home. “The final showing on Saturday is a special cosplay admission,” she said proudly. “You have to be in costume to get in. No one will bat an eye at Chat Noir being there.”

I snagged the flyer with a claw. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or scared that you’ve put this much thought into it,” I said. “All right! I’ll have to check with Ladybug—”

“You’re clear,” she said quickly, adding, “I’ve already asked her for you.”

“Say what?” I sputtered.

“You’re not the only superhero I know,” she said cryptically. “Meet me here at 2000 on Saturday.”

“Deal,” I said, seriously wondering what I was getting into. I leapt to the railing, but turned back with a grand Chat smile. “If I’m going as Chat, are you going to be my Ladybug?”

That odd emotion flashed across her face and then vanished. “No, silly kit--Chat,” she said. “I’ve something else in mind.”

I cocked a masked eyebrow. “Aren’t we’re going as a duo…?”

“Not like that,” she laughed. “It’ll be a surprise.”

I wasn’t entirely sure I liked that, but smiled anyway, and vaulted off into the night.


	16. Matinee Idol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s movie night! I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of excited to see who Marinette decides to dress up as. But more importantly, what will Chat do if he’s recognized? --ep

Against my better judgement, I transformed to Chat Noir, put some actual euros in my costume pocket for admission to the movie, and hurled myself across the night sky to meet up with Marinette for our first official date night. I knew I should have been excited at the prospect of being out on the town with her, openly, but I’d spent more time worried about the possible complications that were bound to result from our outing. 

Finals were over, and summer break was about to start. I’d aced everything, and had learned that Marinette had done the same. My intention was to try and keep the mood celebratory this evening, although technically Chat would have to first ask how she had done. 

I had enough nervous energy, though, that instead of heading for the Bakery, I tacked to the building next door – the one with the downspout I had used many months earlier. I skulked to the roof edge, this time ensured the catchment below was empty, and wrapped my paws around the downspout and slid quickly to the sidewalk, jumping away at the last moment to ensure there were no accidents.

I landed on all fours outside the rear entrance to the kitchen, with the intention of clawing back up to the rooftop patio; instead, the door opened, and Marinette stepped out, smiling. “Chat,” she said.

My jaw dropped. “Marinette…?”

“What do you think?” she asked.

I didn’t know what to say. 

She was wearing a version of my form-fitting costume, right down to the metallic snaps, long belt tail and the gold bell at the collar, though the suit had been subtly adjusted to compliment her very feminine form. Her boots had slight heels, and the zippers, purple accents that went with her eyes and matched her lipstick. The mask was a little narrower, and she’d used some form of eyeblack to accentuate her deep blue eyes against the darker color of the mask. Topping it off, she’d pulled her pigtails into a bun, and perched two cat ears on either side.

She was absolutely adorable. And I said as much.

“How did you come up with that?” I added.

“It was kind of your suggestion,” she smiled, as she picked up her tail and accepted my outstretched paw.

“Really?” I asked. “I don’t remember saying you should be Chat Noir.”

Marinette laughed. “No, silly, you asked me if I’d be your Ladybug.”

I nodded, suddenly in on the joke. “Ah. So now you’re Lady—”

“Noir,” she finished. “Exactly.”

“Wow,” I breathed. “How long have you been planning this?”

“A while now,” she revealed. “I was just waiting for the right moment.”

“Huh,” I said as we rounded the corner and headed toward the theater. “I’m flattered, mil—Princess,” I said. “It means a lot to me.”

She beamed.

_Did I almost say “milady?”_

I looked at her again, in costume, and watched her fluid movements. It wasn’t much of a stretch to mentally overlay polka-dots on it. My brain clicked, screaming to me that I’d been missing the little signs. And yet, subconsciously, I hadn’t, had I?

I sniffed. Vanilla, sugar, exotic spices. 

_Just like Ladybug._

I barely kept from stumbling on the sidewalk.

_No way…_

Was it remotely possibly that all this time, I’d been pouring my heart out to Ladybug herself? Were that true, I had every right to be annoyed with how Marinette had been playing me. And yet, I wasn’t – I _couldn’t_ be. In a brilliant moment of introspection, I knew I’d _never_ be; this was almost the _only_ practical path we could have taken to each other. 

I looked at her again, considered anew the care that had gone into her costume, and the planning that she’d put into the scheme to get us to the movies together. The smile on her face told me she was as happy as I’d ever seen her; I could try and tell myself that it was all Chat, but in my heart of hearts, I knew she’d seen the real me beneath the mask.

A wide Adrien smile came to my face as I recognized I was happier than I’d even been, too.

All I needed to do was figure out how to let her know I could see her now, too.

Around the next corner, we saw the line for the show; all shapes and sizes of superheroes were in line, and we stepped in behind a couple as Spiderman and Gwen Stacey. As we waited our turn, I leaned toward her. “If we run into anyone you know, who do you want me to be?” I asked quietly.

“That’s a good question,” she said, thinking it over. “I’m not seeing anyone officially at school, so I can’t just make up a name.”

We stepped closer. “There must be someone you are close to that you might, conceivably, go to the movies with,” I pushed, thinking I knew the answer.

She looked at me, hard. “All right, there _is_ someone,” she said, though her tone told me I might have overstepped. 

I let it go as we arrived at the booth, and gallantly purchased a ticket for my date and me. “Nice costume,” the clerk behind the booth said, smiling. 

“Thanks,” I replied. “Yours is pretty cool, too.” He was wearing a version of my costume I’d seen on the internet, although one of his cat ears had fallen off.

We entered the theater lobby and ran smack into Nino and Alya. The latter’s eyes widened when she saw who Marinette was with.

“Mari,” she said, “who is _this_?” 

“Nice costume,” I said. Alya had chosen an actual Marvel character, and was dressed in a reasonable approximation of Black Widow.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling at me, and then turning back to Marinette. “_Who_ is this?” she repeated.

“Chat Noir, of course,” Marinette smiled. “Who else?”

I kept the shocked expression off my face. “Marinette…?” I started. “What are you _doing_?”

“Mari,” Alya smiled tightly, “that’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” she replied. “I’m not joking.”

Nino turned toward me. He was in a fairly close version of Hawkeye, right down to the compound bow. “You _are_, aren’t you,” he said simply.

“Yep,” I nodded. “In the fur.”

Alya suppressed a squeal. “Oh. My. God. I was right the whole time…” she said, slightly dazed, then turned to me. “So that time in the plaza…?”

I looked at Marinette; this was not exactly what I thought she would do. “That sort of got the ball rolling,” I said, “but honestly, this is really on the down low.” I winked at her. “Can we keep this between the four of us?”

“Uh…” Alya said, clearly torn between loyalty to her friend and the scoop of a lifetime.

“Please, Alya,” Marinette said quietly. “For now, at least.”

Alya took another moment, and then threw herself at Marinette and wrapped her in a big hug. “I’m so happy for you!” she cried. “I know you’ve been hung up on Adrien for so long now, I’m glad you’ve moved on.”

_Hung up on Adrien? If only she knew…_

“Come on, let’s get seats before the theater fills,” Nino suggested. 

I took Marinette by the paw and followed our friends into the theater. “What was that, milady?” I asked quietly, intentionally using my affectionate moniker for what I was increasingly certain was her alter ego. “I assumed you’d give them the name of someone you’d go to the movies with.”

She smiled, failing to comment on my turn of phrase. “I did.”


	17. Three Truths and No Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chat is on the prowl now to get Marinette to reveal her true identity as Ladybug; fortuitously, an akuma attack provides the opportunity, but will he get more than he bargained for? (You can thank DearestMrIcarus for this chapter and it’s companion, Chapter Seven, which establishes Chat’s inability to handle high-grade catnip. I hope I hit the mark on this, my friend.) Enjoy! --ep

Somewhat fortunately, by the time another enterprising akuma tried to take me down with catnip, I’d had many months to try and prepare for it and attempt to counteract the attack. Knowing what to expect, though, and dealing with it appropriately, were two very different sides of the same coin.

Rena and Carapace had recently become deputized members of Team Miraculous, and though Rena was taking to the position like a duck to water, Carapace had been having some difficulty mastering some of the basics. Ladybug thought it wise that we trade off patrol nights with him, giving Carapace some on-the-job training as it were; my brief from her for this particular night was to try and get him leaping a bit farther. (She’d worked with him on basic blocking tactics with his shield the prior night.)

I’d extended my baton between two buildings and had been balancing halfway; Carapace was supposed to make the leap in a single bound. It was the shortest gap I could find in the city, and one that I could make in my sleep. He’d tried twice already, and both times I’d had to leap from the baton and rescue him as he tumbled haplessly toward the street below. He wasn’t terribly keen on the third try and had been dithering at the edge of the roof for a good ten minutes.

“Come _on_, Cap,” I said, using the shortened name I’d come up with. With his shell shield, he reminded me of another superhero. “Look, do this one more time and then we’ll take five and grab some coffee or something.”

“Are we allowed to do that?” he asked. 

“Even superheroes take breaks,” I laughed. “Now---”

As I started to guide him again, that smell I had found so compelling hit my olfactory nerves like a ton of bricks. I staggered backwards on the baton, nearly loosing my balance, but somehow stayed upright. 

Carapace must have seen my facial machinations. “Dude – what’s wrong?”

“It’s happening again,” I said, shaking my head to try and keep it clear. “I need to get out of here, quickly, and contact LB.” 

I started across the baton toward Carapace, but my attention wouldn’t stay focused on the tiny metal rod. I kept turning, trying to find the source of the smell. Intellectually, this time I knew what was happening: despite shaking my mane again, I was having trouble thinking straight. 

_Didn’t I have a plan for this?_ I thought. 

_Rebreather, _some left over functioning brain cells reminded me. If I could trigger it, I’d get some fresh O2 into me and clear the worst effects.

I tumbled onto the roof, pulling the baton in behind me, and fumbled for a minute with it, trying to ignore the growing impetus to follow the odor to its source. The baton fell out of my hand, and I think Carapace leaned over me as I attempted to throw myself over the edge of the roof. As tiny as he was, he was solidly built, and the Miraculous had enhanced his strength enough that he managed to keep me from leaping away.

The last thing I remembered was him shaking me.

As before, it was a different smell that woke me: a mix of vanilla and sugar, and other complex spices. The unique aroma of Marinette. I cracked open a masked eye and found I was curled up into a little ball, cat-like; this time, I was atop a black blanket that had an embroidered border of green paw prints that looked vaguely familiar to my addled brain.

Based on the _last _time this had happened to me, I was a little bit afraid to open the other eye.

“Chat?” came a familiar voice. Alya’s face popped into view, wearing a concerned expression. “Are you feeling better?”

_Lovely. Now two people have seen me in this condition._

“It depends,” I said sluggishly. “Are you real or a hallucination?” I pried the second masked eye open. “And if you are real, why are you at the Bakery?”

“Because she was visiting me when Carapace brought you in.” Marinette’s concerned face appeared in my field of vision. “Can you sit up? Are you hungry?”

I uncurled, slowly, and stretched out my back. I had no idea how cats could actually sleep in that position. “Yeah,” I said, and pushed myself up.

A gentle hand from behind helped. “Dude, you gave me a real scare.”

_Oh, right. Make that four._

“Sorry, Cap,” I said, my head swimming as I righted myself. “How on earth did you get me back here?” I turned toward him. “And why _here_?”

Carapace looked at me funny. “You were kind of out of it,” he said, “but you kept repeating ‘Marinette’ over and over again. So, I took you to the Bakery.” He looked at Marinette. “She knew what to do, so it was a good call, Dude.” He looked back at me. “Even under that stuff, you were still helping me.”

He paused. “And, for the record, you are heavier than you look.”

That brought a smile to my face. “It’s all muscle,” I quipped. I turned back to Marinette. “Thanks for helping out again, but I’ve got to get out and see who was coming after me—”

“Whoa, kitty,” Marinette said, placing gentle hands on my shoulders to keep me from going anywhere. 

_Kitty?_

Since movie night, I’d fallen back into the dance with Marinette, not quite willing to prod her into revealing herself. But like me, she had increasingly started to show more of her alter-ego’s personality when we were together – and not just as Chat. I’d caught her calling me “kitty” while in line for coffee a few days ago – as Adrien. Now she’d done it again to Chat.

As I sat there, recovering, I started to feel like it was time to make the next move.

Marinette glanced at Alya, who looked away. “Ladybug already cleared the akuma with Rena’s help, and… left instructions that you recover here for a bit.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to say. With the expanded team, there were occasions when I felt superfluous. This was turning into one of them.

Marinette saw my expression. “You’re not being replaced, Chat,” she laughed. 

“Easy for you to say,” I groused.

“Look, let me get some goodies from the Bakery. That’ll cheer you up.”

I tried to look sullen, but the thought of, well, _anything_ from Tom’s ovens made my mouth water. “Fine,” I said, but it had none of the edge I’d intended.

Marinette took Alya and disappeared through the skylight. Carapace and I just looked at each other; I finally broke the stalemate. “Thanks, man,” I said. “I owe you a solid for taking care of me.”

“Anytime, Chat.”

The girls returned with two trays of goodies. Marinette offered me the one with my favorites on it: handmade, Belgian chocolate croissants. I snagged two and obliterated them before I thought twice and grabbed a third one just as she shifted the tray to Carapace.

He looked at me. “Dude…!”

“It’s the ‘nip,” I laughed as I took a little more time to enjoy the third.

Despite the fact that she had two costumed superheroes on her roof, Marinette kept the conversation casual and flowing, almost as if the four of us had been friends all along. That observation stuck with me, though, as I realized that three of us – Marinette, Alya and I, were, indeed, friends; though at least one of them certainly didn’t realize Adrien was sitting across from them at that moment.

I looked again at Carapace. I’d only met his superhero persona a little bit ago, but in some ways, I felt like I’d known him forever. I was well aware that Ladybug knew his real identity, since she’d bestowed his Miraculous upon him herself – and, for that matter, Rena, too. 

_Hmm,_ the sly Chat thought to himself, _maybe this is an opportunity too good to pass up. _

At a natural break in the conversation, I made an innocuous suggestion. “Have any of you ever played ‘Two Truths and a Lie?’”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed at me immediately. “Chat –” she started.

“Oh I _love_ that game!” Alya gushed. “Let’s play!”

Marinette turned toward her friend. “Alya, I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” she said, inclining her head toward the two superheroes sitting across from them.

“It’s harmless fun,” Alya persisted. 

I smiled my most disarming Chat smile. “All right, here are the rules: each of us will make three statements, two of which must be true. One is a falsehood. The person to your right has to guess which one is the lie.”

“Who wins?” Carapace asked.

“The person who guesses the most lies correctly,” I replied. “We play three rounds. Everyone ready?”

Marinette was barely suppressing her fury, but nodded along with the others.

“Look, I’ll go first,” Ayla said. She pointedly looked at Carapace. “You’ll start the guessing, Carapace.”

“Me?” Carapace gulped. “I, uh, hardly know you. And Chat’s the one to your right.”

“Okay, Chat, you’re up then.”

I nodded.

“Right.” Alya thought for a moment. “I love comic books. I have twin sisters. I’ve never been akumatized.”

As she started, I wasn’t sure if she’d give me something to work with. For like Carapace, _technically_ Chat didn’t know Alya beyond our few interactions up to this point. “Ah,” I said thoughtfully. “I don’t know you very well, but I do know you were Lady Wifi. That’s your lie.”

She smiled. “Very good, Chat!”

I pondered; this round needed to be easy. Cap was on my right, so I turned toward him. “I love croissants. I am not allergic to feathers. Catnip makes me sleep.”

Carapace smiled. “Dude, a softball. You are so, like, totally allergic to feathers.”

I smiled. “Correct.”

Cap relaxed, then panicked once he realized he was up. “Ok,” he said, turning to Marinette. “Uh…”

“Stay simple,” I advised. 

Something clicked for him. He took a breath. “I can leap. My kwami is---”

“Ah, not that simple,” I said hastily.

“Oh, right, sorry.” He thought again. “Uh…” He floundered and looked to me for help.

“Why don’t you take a pass,” I said. “Marinette?”

“Right,” she said. “I can bake. I love—” she locked eyes with me for a moment. “—macaroons. I can’t sew.” She turned to Alya.

“Wow, girl, at least make it challenging. The third one is the lie, obviously.”

Marinette nodded. “I’ve not had a chance to pick,” she said, turning back to me. Her look to me, though, said: _Don’t push it, Chat. Stop now._

I smiled back, saying with it: _Not on your life, Princess._

“Next round,” I promised. “Alya, you’re up again.”

Alya thought again. “I am a journalist. I am a secret superhero. I am in love with Nino.”

She’d tried to hide it, but Marinette’s expression had shifted slightly, though I didn’t catch which particular truth or lie it had been on. Similarly, Carapace had shot a glance at Alya and then started to examine his gloves. It dawned on me that all _four_ of us appeared to be hiding secrets. I looked at the three of them again, narrowing my eyes slightly; I didn’t need my super feline senses to know that there was now an electric undercurrent to the game.

I turned the three statements over in my brain. “Well,” I said, “this might be a bit unfair. I’ve only met this Nino fellow the one time we were all at the movies together. But the way he looked at you, I’d say that is a truth. And I read the Ladyblog, so the that is the other truth. That makes the superhero one the lie, right?”

Carapace shifted again. “You love—”

Marinette glared at him and he stopped, but not before I’d seen the another meaningful glance that Alya and Carapace had shared. 

_Interesting._

“Very good, Chat,” Alya said, but her smile seemed forced. “Your turn.”

“Ah,” I said, shifting plans slightly on the fly. Turing to Carapace, I asked: “Are you ready?”

He gulped. “No,” he said quietly. “Can I pass? Again?” he asked. 

Three sets of eyes turned toward me. “Uh, sure,” I said, not really knowing why I was the arbiter. “You’re up, Marinette.”

Marinette nodded, but there was a dangerous look to her eyes.

_Let’s see if I can press any buttons with this one._

I tried to look thoughtful by cocking my feline ears and putting a claw tip to my chin. “How about… I am a superhero. My alter-ego is a famous supermodel. I love…” my eyes locked on Marinette. “…Ladybug.”

_Hah! Three truths. Try that on for size._

She calmly looked at me, expression neutral; but wheels were turning behind those eyes.

I gazed back pleasantly. “Go on, Princess,” I prodded. “Choose the _lie_.”

Never looking away from me, Marinette began. “The lie is number two. I just can’t visualize you on the _cat_walk.”

I smiled wider. “I’m bummed you don’t think I’d make it on the runway,” I laughed, careful not to confirm or deny her choice. “All right, your turn.”

She hadn’t stopped staring at me. “You _do_ remember the game you wanted to play was ‘Two Truths and a Lie,’ right?”

“Yes, Purrincess,” I said sweetly. “I do.”

Marinette started to say something and thought better of it. “All right. And point of privilege: Chat will answer again.”

I nodded. “Fine by me.”

She paused, then said carefully, without looking away from me: “I love Chat Noir. I _am_ Ladybug. I love Adrien Agreste.”

Alya gasped; Carapace straightened up like a bolt of electricity had jolted him. Marinette continued to bore those beautiful blue eyes into my wide green ones.

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but she’d lobbed a bomb at me. “Two truths? And a lie?”

“Yes, Chat,” she confirmed. “Just… like… _yours_,” she emphasized.

_Just like yours. _

My heart skipped a beat.

_She _knows_ all three were true! Does that mean…? Holy cannoli, I’m right - she _is_ Ladybug!_

I narrowed my green eyes at her. “Clever, Princess,” I said. “Are you absolutely _sure_ you want me to answer?”

“Yes, Chat,” she said, eyes containing the smile that she was carefully keeping from her lips. “I’m pawsitive I want to hear your answer.” The dig was now unmistakable.

“All right,” I said, narrowing my eyes further. My heart was pounding, hard. After all of the dancing, we’d finally come to the moment of truth. Carapace and Alya had disappeared from my consciousness; it was just the two of us, gazing intently at each other. 

There was something new in her expression; an impish delight, maybe? Recognition that this is what we both wanted? I could read in her eyes that she’d made a decision about us and was ready to roll with it.

I took a deep breath. “I think –”

“_Marinette!_” came a voice from below. “You’re supposed to be babysitting tonight!” The skylight popped open and Sabine’s face appeared. 

“Oh, sorry,” she said, seeing the four of us and not blinking twice at the superheroes present. “Nadja called and you are really, _really_ late to take care of Manon.”

“Thanks, Maman,” Marinette said, still not taking her eyes off me. “We’ll finish this _later_, Chat,” she said firmly. 

It was an order, not a suggestion. “Of course, Princess,” I said lightly. 

“Are you feeling well enough to go home?” 

“Yes,” I said, standing. I took her hand and kissed it. “Thank you for your hospitality. Again.”

She leaned in close, gently kissed my cheek, and said so quietly, I was sure anyone without superior feline hearing would have heard it. “Meet me at our normal spot around 2100.” As she pulled back, she added, “And don’t _ever_ do that again, _kitty_.” 

“As you wish, _milady_,” I replied, emphasizing my endearment for Ladybug while keeping my green eyes on her blue. She held my eyes, then was off to the skylight, leaving me standing there, a million things running through my brain.

I was sure my goofy Chat grin couldn’t go any wider.


	18. Laughter In The Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that Chat is certain – and Marinette has essentially dropped any pretense – where do the two go from here? That very question has perplexed Chat since the Two Truths game, and he hopes to get an answer when he goes on patrol with Ladybug. Unless he gets distracted. –ep

In what had to have been some sort of perverse universe-driven irony, the next day saw my schedule completely open. My photo shoot at the Palais de Chaillot was cancelled at the last minute due to the inclement weather (Shocker! It rains in Paris!) and my fencing instructor was out of the city for a few weeks. I had nothing to do and hours to fill before meeting up with Ladybug.

Rain was sheeting against the massive windows of my bedroom; it was quite the storm front that had hit. Lightening intermittently glared in the sky. Definitely not a day anyone would want to be out in.

Unless you were a cat superhero, nearly impervious to everything.

I dragged Plagg out of his comfortable laundry hamper and transformed into Chat Noir. Owing to the weather, I opted to go out through the bathroom and, unusually, paused on the windowsill to close the portal behind me. Wouldn’t do to come back to a flooded room.

The downpour was warm; having learned my lesson with the downspout episode, rain beaded off my now-slightly modified costume easily. My hair, on the other hand, was drenched immediately, but I didn’t care. After last night, my entire worldview was rosy. I hurled myself to the fence, hit it with my boots and tumble-vaulted into the sky, landing on the rooftop opposite the mansion. I considered the simple logic pathway that had formed in my brain as I moved.

_Marinette is Ladybug._

I ran across the rooftop, gleefully splashing in the pools of water, and launched across an alleyway.

_Marinette loves me._

I ran along the apex of the roof, threw up the baton and helicoptered across the grand avenue.

_Ladybug is Marinette._

I extended the baton and pole vaulted across a park, arcing through the rain as it pelted me in the face. 

_Ladybug, therefore, loves me. Q.E.D._

For some reason, visiting the plaza at the Palais de Chaillot seemed to resonate; I landed atop one of the higher buildings surrounding the space and crouched, looking across the wide space to the Eiffel Tower. It was partially blurred owing to the rain, the greyness of the overcast day making the colors of the framework pop unusually well. If I’d had a camera, it would have made for a picture postcard worthy print.

The plaza was, of course, deserted; most normal people had decided to stay indoors. I shook my mane to get a few gallons of water out, thankful Chat didn’t have the hair product Adrien normally used. This amount of rain would have created some sort of gelatinous mess that would take hours to remove in the shower. My gaze roamed the plaza, watching how the light was interacting with the rivulets and puddles that were everywhere, fascinated by the seeming randomness to it all.

One puddle in particular caught my attention. I looked again – the plaza was still clear of people – and smiled.

_Why not?_

I vaulted out of my position, twisted into a barrel roll and came down on all fours just to the side of the puddle. It wasn’t particularly large, but it reminded me of ones Mother had allowed me to stomp through when I was much, much younger. Especially when Father was not with us. I stood up, looked again, and then used all of my Chat might to leap into the air.

I came down squarely in the middle of the water, sending it flying high in all directions; I stood there, massive, childish grin on my face, laughing as I watched the water cascade down around me. 

“You might as well join me,” I said, smiling wider. My feline ears had picked up Ladybug’s yo-yo just as I was coming down. “I know you want to.”

Ladybug dropped down from the wall she’d been standing on. “And how would you know that, Chat?” she asked, smiling.

“_Cat_uition,” I replied, winking.

She rolled her eyes. “I honestly thought you’d get better at those as time went on.”

“I’m pawistively hurt, milady.” I held out a paw. “C’mon, give it a shot.”

The water had re-collected around my boots. Ladybug hesitated, then took my paw. “You’d better hope Alya is nowhere close,” she muttered. “This will go viral for sure.”

“On three?” I asked. She nodded.

“One… two… three!” I cried, and together we leapt up into the air, hand in hand, and came down with a massive splash. 

With the two of us working in tandem, the water scattered to the four corners in a massive wave. I looked at her and laughed, long and hard; so hard, tears were running down my face (indistinguishable from the rain that was pelting me, thankfully). Ladybug joined in the merriment, the two of us looking for all the world as though we’d narrowly escaped the clutches of an akuma using laughing gas.

We wound up back on the rooftop together, looking out across the plaza and the Tower. The rain had thinned a bit at that point, making the Tower just a bit more visible, and a fragment of the sky had lightened behind it in dramatic fashion. Ladybug was leaning against me, much like she would have done as Marinette. It was a familiar sensation, yet unfamiliar; for up until now, she had carefully kept her two personas feeling apart.

“So, Chat,” she said, watching the light play off the Tower with me. “What do we do now?”

“There are more puddles,” I said helpfully.

“That’s not what I meant, kitty.”

“I know,” I said, grinning. 

She turned toward me, those deep blue eyes connecting with mine. “Obviously, you know who I am under the mask,” she said. “And I have a pretty good idea who’s under yours.”

“I suspect you’ve known for a while, milady,” I said.

Ladybug paused. “Yes,” she said after a bit. “Since your ankle sprain.”

I nodded. “It was the heat of the moment,” I explained. “I had to save you, and without being transformed, I didn’t take the landing as easily as I would have.”

“You did a good job hiding it from me at the Louvre later.”

“Sly cat, remember?” I laughed. “But I screwed up on the roof. I should have just stayed home.”

“When do you begin to suspect me?”

I thought about that. There were hundreds of points where I probably should have seen who my partner was, far earlier than I had. “When I helped you prep for the Chemistry final,” I said. “You asked me what you smelled like, it inadvertently started to connect the dots. I knew for sure when we went to the movies.”

“That’s why you wanted to know what I should call you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I’d hoped you’d back into me.”

She leaned into me again, sighing. “I almost did, actually,” she murmured. “But I still wasn’t sure what to do about it. I’d fallen hard for you, Chat, only to realize you were actually Adrien.”

Hearing Ladybug say my alter-ego’s name sent a thrill through me that was undefinable. 

“Reconciling who I was actually in love with was a problem.”

I looked at her. “Until last night,” I said, intuitively knowing the answer.

“Exactly,” she said, turning to smile me. “I was being honest. I love Chat. I love Adrien. That means I love _you_, no matter what form you’re in.”

I hugged her close, tears of joy now intermingling with the rain. “I couldn’t have said it any better, milady.” I bent to her ear, saying quietly. “Whether you are Marinette or Ladybug. The same goes for me. I love _you_.”

She snaked an arm around me, pulled me closer and into a hug. “We have to keep this a secret, though,” she said, sadly.

“Why?” I asked. “We’re already together in the public’s mind. I’ve seen the blogs,” I added, “not to mention the fan fiction.”

“The _what_?”

“You don’t want to know,” I said.

“Okay,” she said. “Still, I think we have to play it like we’re still just professionals out there.”

My smile faltered. “Wait – you’re not already breaking up with me, are you? I just _found _you.”

“What? No!” she said, forcefully. “I’m just saying the Ladybug-is-dating-Chat part needs to be invisible.”

I looked at her. “That doesn’t leave many options on the table,” I pointed out.

“That leaves three,” she corrected. 

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “This I _have_ to hear.”

“One: Adrien starts to date Marinette.”

“I don’t see a problem there,” I said. “But we might need to ramp it up slowly.”

“There is a problem,” she countered. “Chat is _already_ dating Marinette.”

“Oh,” I said. Then: “Oh!”

“Right,” she agreed. “That’s option two. I’m happy to keep that going for the short term, until we can come up with a way for Adrien to take over.”

“I can work with that,” I said, wondering how I would. “And what is option three?”

“Ladybug dates Adrien.”

“Huh,” I said, a sly Chat smile playing at my lips. “I don’t see why we can’t do that at the same time as ‘Chat dates Marinette.’”

“I agree,” she smiled back. “I’d hate to leave Adrien out in the cold, after all.”

“Very thoughtful of you, milady. I’ll let him know.”

“I’m sure you will.” She sighed. “And then there is the problem of Rena and Carapace.”

“They are already an item, milady,” I observed. “In _and _out of costume.”

She looked back at me. “Ah,” she said simply. “They’ve not been very subtle, those two. We could learn a lesson from that, Chat, as we move forward ourselves.”

“Message received,” I nodded. “I presume Nino and Alya don’t yet know who I am, though?”

Ladybug raised a masked eyebrow at my correct identification. “No,” she said after a moment. “But we probably gave them enough last night they’ll make the connection soon.”

“I’ll handle Carapace,” I offered. “You can take on Alya.”

“Deal.” She stood up and I joined her. “How about some fresh coffee?”

“If it’s your dad’s, I’m in,” I said.

“Follow me, kitty,” she said, launching her yo-yo into the cloudy sky.

“Anywhere, milady,” I gleefully responded, hurling myself after her.


	19. Breaking Barriers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chat’s in charge of telling Carapace who’s beneath the cat mask. But being Chat also means he gets to do it his own way. Let’s check back with him and see how well it’s going, shall we?

By prior arrangement, Ladybug and I had split the patrol duties the following evening; she’d taken Rena to the far side of the city, and I had Carapace with me, conveniently close to the Agreste Mansion. While we both suspected Rena and Carapace had puzzled out my identity after our Two Truths night, this evening’s primary mission was to make sure we were all on the same page once and for all.

Once again, I’d spanned an alleyway with my baton and was standing at the middle. We’d been at it for more than two hours now, and I’d rescued Cap a dozen times already. Neither one of us were terribly anxious for his next attempt, but I tried to remain good natured about it. “Come on, Carapace,” I encouraged. “One more shot, and then we’ll call it a day.”

Cap looked at me like I’d become the three-headed guardian to the gates of Hades, swallowed, and then backed up. Putting his head down, he trundled to the edge of the roof with nowhere near the velocity he’d need to cross the space, hit the tile and vaulted into the air… for about five meters, before starting the inevitable plunge toward the alley.

I sighed and rolled off the baton, snapping it shorter in the process and grabbing it in one hand; I tucked into a dive and nabbed Carapace with the other arm, rolled him upright and spun up the baton into helicopter mode one handed. I couldn’t rotate it fast enough to do anything other than slow our descent, but that was enough, and we touched down in grimy alleyway with only a bruised ego among us.

“There we are,” I said as I released him and stepped back to the brick wall, resting my back against it and propping a boot up.

Carapace slumped against the wall opposite. “I just can’t do it, Chat,” he lamented. “I can’t seem to get it straight in my mind. And just when I think I have, I look down—”

“Yeah, try not to do that,” I said sagely.

His eyes went to mine. “That’s easy for you to say, Chat,” he snapped. “You dance around out here like it’s second nature—”

“It is,” I confirmed, trying to keep the mood light.

“—and unlike some of us,” he continued to splutter, “you’re not carrying around extra weight—”

“You should see me after an evening with Marinette at the Bakery,” I laughed. “There are days when I think she’s intentionally trying to fatten me up. She keeps complaining that I’m too skinny.”

“Damn it, Adrien!” he yelled. “The least you could do is…” he stopped, eyes suddenly gone wide.

“Well,” I said, a masked eyebrow raised. “That’s not _exactly_ how I was planning on bringing up that subject.”

“Uh,” he said, desperately looking around the alley to ensure we were still alone. I’d already confirmed that, but it was nice that he was thinking about it at least. “Look, about that…”

“This might not be the best place for this discussion,” I said. “Follow me,” I encouraged as I started to climb up the side of the building with my claws.

I heard him groan. “Please tell me it’s not far,” he asked as he clambered up behind me. It occurred to me that turtles might not have claws; I’d not taken note of any, at least, in Nino’s costume. We’d have to talk about that.

“No,” I said. “Fortunately for you, I picked this location for your practicing specifically because it’s close to the mansion.”

I hauled myself over the edge and back onto the roof, then flipped over and helped Cap up as well. “And,” I added, “I have some snacks waiting for us when we get there.”

He smiled. “Sounds good.”

“There’s a catch, though,” I said, grinning. “You’ve got to get through the window on your own.”

“What window?” he asked, worried eyes suddenly darting over my shoulder to the recognizable hulk of Agreste Manor.

“Bedroom, to the side there,” I pointed with a claw. “It’s the open one. I’d prefer we use that, if you don’t mind; explaining a broken one might be an issue.”

“Won’t someone see us?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “Father is out of town and I gave the staff the night off.”

He gulped. “Then why can’t we use the front door?”

“If you ever want to visit me as Carapace, you’ll have to do it this way,” I said. “Come on, it’ll be fine.”

“Says you,” he muttered under his breath.

“I heard that,” I reminded him, pointing to my feline ears and laughing as I built up some speed on the roof. I hit the edge with my boots and, I’ll admit, decided to show off a little with a double barrel roll into a side twist, coming down on the edge of the fence so I could use it to vault through the open window. I landed in a cat crouch on the tile.

“Nice,” Ladybug said from where she was sitting on my couch and giving me the traditional golf clap.

“But the barrel roll was a bit over the top,” Rena added as she polished off a finger sandwich from the buffet I’d had chef prepare before he’d left for the night.

“Don’t I get points for style?” I asked, smiling.

I never heard their response.

Carapace missed the open window by a wide margin and crashed through the unopened portion of the window wall, shattering multiple panels in the process. I managed to spin up my baton shield and protect the three of us from the shards of glass that rained down from the explosion, then rolled out and over to where Cap had splatted on the floor, limbs akimbo.

I brushed off the worst of the glass from his back and helped him up. “Look on the bright side,” I said as we stood and surveyed what was left of my windows. “You managed to cross the distance in a single leap!”

“But your _room_, Dude,” he said. 

My masked eyes narrowed in good humor. “I suspected this might happen,” I explained, inclining my head toward Ladybug. “She can fix it.”

“_Should_ be able to,” Ladybug corrected. “I’m not entirely sure Miraculous Ladybug works when there isn’t an akuma involved.”

I looked at her. “It better,” I said, a tiny note of panic in my voice. “Otherwise I’m going have a frantic few days trying to get this fixed before Father gets back.”

“Can we actually get to the elephant in the room?” Rena asked. “Or rather, the _Chat_ in Adrien’s room?”

I laughed, and looked at Ladybug, who nodded. “So, we asked you here tonight just to confirm what you likely already know,” I said. “And just to put all of the cards on the table, I am aware of who each of you are under the mask as well.”

Ladybug continued. “I can’t emphasize how important it is that we keep our identities secret from everyone else in Paris. I’m comfortable with the four of us being in the know, but we can’t extend the circle of trust any further.”

Rena snorted. “Chloe – or rather, Queen Bee – won’t be very happy about that.”

“She’s a special case,” I said.

“Isn’t she just,” Rena laughed, and turned to Ladybug. “I’ve got your back, Marinette,” she said soberly, then hugged me. “And yours, too, you big doofus.”

“Hey now,” I said, smiling. “No need for name calling, Alya.”

“That’s _Rena_ to you, Chat,” she winked. 

“Of course, my fox,” I smiled as I took her hand and gently kissed it.

“Hey!” Carapace said. “No hitting on my girlfriend,” he added good naturedly.

“I would never,” I said, placing a hand over my heart.

“You certainly would,” Ladybug smirked. “But I’m with Carapace. Keep your focus if you don’t mind.”

“I’ve only ever had eyes for you, milady,” I said. 

“Isn’t that the truth,” Rena cackled as she looped an arm under Carapace’s. “We’re going to leave the two lovebirds alone now, Cap.”

“We are?” he said around a mouthful of something. “We just got here.”

“And now we’re leaving,” she said as she pushed him toward the now-destroyed wall of windows. “Good night, Ladybug, Chat.”

Ladybug stood next to me, arm around my waist, and we watched Rena leap from the windowsill with Carapace in tow. The two made it (thankfully) to the rooftop opposite the mansion and disappeared into the evening.

“Don’t they make a cute couple?” Ladybug sighed as she leaned her head into my shoulder.

“Yes, we do,” I said, laughing. “Now, about my window…”


	20. Balancing Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DearestMrIcarus has double-downed on his suggestion for Chapter Seventeen with this beauty of a conundrum: now that Chat and Marinette know their alter-ego’s identity, and bearing in mind they are attempting to keep any hint of an Adrien-Marinette connection invisible (for now), how well can Marinette tap dance when put on the spot by her classmates? (This might not exactly be what you were hoping for, Icarus…) --ep

I dropped onto the roof of our school in my cat crouch, and Ladybug zipped down her yo-yo line as gracefully as always. Despite it being barely seven thirty, it felt like we’d put in a full day already having spent the better part of the last hour dealing with an akuma bent upon taking the main television station in Paris off the air – permanently. It had been nip and tuck but at length we’d de-akumatized a former news anchor who’d been sidelined by a younger version.

My ring chirped the three-minute warning, and Ladybug’s earrings were down to their final spot. “You have just enough time to get to the locker room,” I said, “if you hurry.” I peered over the edge of the courtyard roof. “The space is empty at the moment.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said, as she leaned in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you on the other side, kitty,” she laughed as she vaulted over the edge and disappeared from view. 

I tried to keep from pinching myself. It was still hard for me to remember Ladybug was in love with me – and loved me as much as I loved her. I knew I was wearing the goofy grin I got when I thought about it, but I couldn’t help it. My ring chirped again and prodded me into action.

I vaulted over the opening and chose instead to slide through the side window of the locker room, which was thankfully empty. I hustled over to Adrien’s locker, opened the door to partially shield myself. “Plagg – claws in!”

The green wave of transformation rolled over me, and I had a piece of Camembert waiting for a very tired looking Plagg. “Thanks,” he said, unexpectedly being polite.

“That took more out of you than I thought,” I said, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, kid,” he said as he accepted two more slices from me. “It doesn’t help that you’re spending almost every waking moment as Chat Noir now.”

I frowned. “Didn’t you say I could remain transformed indefinitely?” I asked, concerned. “Unless I use Cataclysm?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I never thought you would take me literally, though.” He sighed. “No other holder has.”

“Is it hurting you?” I asked urgently, trying to detect any changes in my kwami friend. “I had no idea—”

“Relax, kid,” he said, sly smile on his face. “I’m pulling your tail.”

I bopped him on the head. “Don’t do that!” I said. “I care about you too, Plagg.”

“I know,” he said softly, a tiny ray of happiness suddenly escaping his normally dour composure. 

I tossed him a final slice and started to gather my books for the day. Plagg suddenly gripped my shoulder. “Transform - now!” he whispered urgently.

He didn’t have to tell me twice. “Plagg – claws out!” I said, dropping my books as I went through my transformation moves. The glow had barely faded when the rear wall to the locker room exploded inward, throwing concrete blocks everywhere.

I spun up my baton and protected myself, thankful it was still early and no one else had arrived yet. The room was heavy with concrete dust, so it wasn’t immediately obvious what I was dealing with.

A moment later, a dumpster came sailing at me; I leapt out of the way, but it plowed through three rows of lockers, crumpling them like they were aluminum foil. 

“We recycle here,” I said to the empty space, “so you really should have---”

The deep blue recycling dumpster came at me, fast; I managed to somersault over it and land atop the one remaining row of lockers. It crumpled into the wall that was shared with the ladies’ locker room, but not before putting a serious crack in it.

I vaulted back to the wall, landing on top of the rubble, and pressed a feline ear to the wall, trying to hear if anyone was there. “Marinette? It’s Chat! Are you in there? Is anyone hurt?”

“How did he know you were in here?” I heard someone say. It took a moment for me to place the voice.

_Lila? Why is she here? I thought she was in Italy?_

“He must have seen me walking into the school,” I heard Marinette reply. Then, louder: “I’m fine, Chat. There are four of us in here—”

I had to vault away as a small Citroen came sailing through the ever-widening gap to the outside, horn dopplering as it arced through the space. It crashed atop the dumpster, causing the whole pile to sag ominously. I cartwheeled over the mess and perched atop the roof. 

“Sorry!” I said. “How many are in there?”

“Four,” Marinette yelled. “Me, Lila, Chloe—”

“_Get me out of HERE!_” Chloe abruptly added.

“And Kagami,” Marinette finished. “Whatever is going on over there, our exit appears to be blocked on this side. We’re stuck for the moment.”

“_Chat! Do you hear me! This is UTTERLY—”_

“Calm down, Chloe,” Marinette said forcefully. “Chat will get to us.”

“It might be a bit,” I said through the wall. “I’m not sure what I’m dealing with yet.”

This time, a city bus came crashing down from above; I managed to spring out from beneath it, but snagged my tail under one of the wheels in the process, arresting my vault rather suddenly. It hurt, too

I tried to pull it loose, but it was pinned. 

“Ow, ow, ow!” I said to no one in particular. I tried to unbuckle it and realized the fatal flaw in my plan: the way it was pinned, I couldn’t get enough slack to release the buckle – not even the fraction necessary try and wriggle it from around my waist. I also knew my claws would not be able to rend it in half, since it was made from the same nearly indestructible fabric as the rest of my costume. 

_Lovely_. 

And with Ladybug more or less stuck in the next room, I was on my own.

I pulled my baton out and snaked closer to the wheel, looking for any place I could to try and jack up the bus. I only needed a few centimeters in order to release the end of my tail. The bus had essentially moved me back toward the wall adjoining the lady’s locker room, and as I worked, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation with my superior feline hearing.

_That space looks good. If I can get the baton in there…_

“Of course I _like_ Adrien,” Marinette was saying. “That’s not much of a secret.”

“I can’t believe Adrikins even talks to you.”

“Why?”

“You’re not even in the same circle.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I think you like him more than you’re willing to admit.” This was from Kagami.

_That didn’t work, maybe if I push it in there? Yeah, that… UGH!... maybe… _

“We’re friends, Kagami. Of course I like him.”

“I hear you’re dating Chat Noir. How does that work, seeing as though you can’t take your eyes off of Adrien?” 

_Lila, I wish you’d stay in Italy. I might have made a little space… UGH! Maybe…!_

I’d managed to get the bus lifted slightly only to have the baton skitter out from the spot I’d been using – and watched sail out of my hands in the process. It clanged across the debris in the room and came to rest fifteen meters away from me.

Too far to be useful now.

_Brute force now. I might be able to grip under the edge there…_

“…yes, I am,” Marinette was saying, rather hotly. “We’ve been seeing each other for months.”

“And yet you still look at Adrien like he was your dream partner,” Kagami said rather coldly. “Does Chat know where your heart lies?”

_Chat does. Man, did they fill this bus up with rocks? GAGH this is really heavy._

“I’ve been nothing but honest with Chat,” Marinette said.

“Then you’re saying I can take a run at Adrikins?”

“Just try, Chloe,” Marinette replied. “I’m sure Adrien is _still_ capable of fending you off.”

“And _why_ would he do that?” she asked, voice rising .

“He may never have loved me,” Marinette replied, “but Adrien has always been smitten with Ladybug; I don’t think that’s changed.”

_Huh?_

The bus slipped out from claws.

_I hope you’re trying to misdirect them, milady,_ I thought, my heart skipping slightly.

“She’s right,” Lila interjected. “He’s been hung up on Ladybug since the day she appeared in Paris.”

“Exactly,” Marinette agreed. “Besides, why would you want to, anyway? He’s a rich, spoiled, entitled boy who can’t relate to any of us, constantly doing his daddy’s bidding. Combine that with his hero worship of Ladybug and you’re coming up empty in the relationship department.”

_Spoiled? Hero workshop? What...?_

I heard them chuckle and despite being in superhero mode, felt the flames of anger and embarrassment upon my cheeks.

“How true is that?” Chloe laughed. “What _was_ I thinking.”

“I know, right?” Marinette was laughing too.

_Was any of that accurate? Did Marinette actually feel that way about me? Has it all been some sort of cruel act of kindness on Ladybug’s part? Letting me think I was finally making progress with her? WTF?_

Spurred on by a tinge of anger, possibly unjustified, I grasped the edge of the bus and yanked upward, hard. My tail snapped out from its imprisonment and I dropped the bus with a resounding thud – mirroring my black mood. I vaulted over to my baton and picked it up, then somersaulted out the wrecked wall to see if I could divine who or what had been attacking me.

The alleyway was empty; even with all of my feline senses, I couldn’t determine what had been here and which way it might have gone. All I knew was that it was still around, somewhere, and I’d need Ladybug to finish the job.

_I’d need Ladybug_. The thought flamed my ire. _Maybe she doesn’t really need _me_._

I trotted back into what was left of the locker room, reared up and smashed the door out into the main space. That wasn’t entirely necessary, but it took the edge of my anger. I immediately saw why Marinette had been trapped: the initial blow to the exterior wall had loosened the scoreboard for the basketball court, and it had dropped in front of the lady’s locker room. I grasped it from one side and hurled it away from the door, and then ripped the door itself off its hinges.

Okay, I admit it, steam was coming out of my ears. 

“_Marinette!”_ I yelled, perhaps louder than necessary.

“Here, Chat,” she said, coming out from behind the lockers the foursome had been using as shelter. Her eyes were wide with concern.

“Let’s get you all out of here,” I said quickly, my eyes locking briefly with Marinette’s. “This way.”

I hurried the four of them through an emergency exit just opposite, and then shepherded them to the main street out front. “I’m not entirely certain which way our friend went, so head over there to that police substation and wait for me to clear the area.”

“Are you sure—” Marinette started.

“Yes,” I cut her off. “I’m sure Ladybug will be here momentarily.”

She took me aside as the others started across the street. “How much did you hear?” she asked quietly.

“All of it,” I said tersely, using a claw tip to point to my feline ears. “These don’t miss much.”

“Chat—”

“Transform and meet me on the roof,” I interrupted harshly. “We’ll deal with whatever _that_ was in the locker room _later_. We need to handle this akuma first.” I waited a beat. “_Princess_,” I added, laced with all of the sarcasm I could muster.

I leapt away from her without waiting for a response.


	21. Corrections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When we last saw Chat, he was… irritated with Marinette, shall we say, but an akuma attack isn’t the best time to try and sort out hard feelings. Or is it? --ep

Ladybug dropped in beside me atop the school.

My tail had been tapping against the tiles while I leaned against the façade, arms crossed, boot against the marble. I was still fuming over what I’d heard while I’d been trying to free myself in the locker room, and was torn between saving Paris and melting down on my partner. 

Fortunately, saving Paris outweighed any personal issues I had at the moment.

“It went _that_ way,” I said, chin pointing down the main thoroughfare in front of our school. 

Ladybug turned and saw the path of destruction our unseen akuma had wreaked; all manner of debris were there, from small trees to full size city buses such as the one that had pinned my tail. Her eyes narrowed.

“What’s the plan, Milady?” I said icily.

“Follow it?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course, Milady,” I said, and leapt away from the façade and into the air, baton twirling. I charted a path along the rooftops paralleling the path of destruction; Ladybug swung alongside me.

“Look, Chat, can we talk about this?”

“Right _now_?” I asked. “Aren’t we just a little bit busy?”

“I can multitask,” she said. “So can you.”

“Whatever,” I said as I leapt over an alley. “I’m pissed. What else would you like to know?”

“Why?” she asked as we landed side-by-side on a wider roof and jogged together for a bit. 

“Does ‘rich, spoiled, entitled boy who can’t relate to any of us, constantly doing his daddy’s bidding’ ring any bells?” I asked acidly. “Or, perhaps, ‘his hero worship of Ladybug’ and ‘empty in the relationship department?’”

We both leapt in tandem across a four-lane avenue and landed on the roof opposite.

“Chat, I was locked in a room with three other girls trying to pin me down on a relationship with you.”

“You mean Adrien,” I pointed out.

“Well, right,” she added hastily. “You know we’re not ready for that to be public yet. I was trying to sow some doubt on that front.”

I helicoptered up and over a chimney, landing down beside her again. “By destroying me as a person? In front of people I have to go to school with?” We jumped again over another alleyway. “Nice plan,” I snorted. “Thanks for the assist.”

“Chat—”

“It’s already hard enough being a famous model, Milady, and trying to go to school normally.”

“But—"

“You made me sound like a goofy love-starved teenager with a limited grasp of reality.” I turned to her, sardonic smile twisting on my face. “I would’ve thought you’d come up with a more creative way to torpedo any whispers about us.”

“That’s what I was trying to do,” Ladybug said defensively. 

“From where I was standing, it sure sounded like you were treating me as a charity case.” I locked eyes with her briefly. “Are you?”

“No!” she said forcefully. We were about to jump over another alley when she grabbed my bicep and stopped me, hard. 

“_What_?” I said. 

“Listen to me, you nutty kitty,” she said.

My masked eyes narrowed, but I held my tongue.

“While my intentions were pure, I had given no thought to how it would sound to you and whether it would hurt you in any way. I had no desire to hurt you. Tell me how I can convince you otherwise.”

I looked into her eyes and saw genuine regret there. Some of my anger seeped away. “Milady,” I started, sighing. “Intellectually, I understand what you were trying to accomplish. You sold it well, which makes it _very_ hard for me not to think you feel the way you said you did in that locker room.”

She reached a hand to my mask. “I don’t,” she said. “And I think you know that, deep down.”

Did I? I spent a split second on introspection and realized I was still hopelessly in love with her. Staying mad was nearly impossible, but I tried to for a moment longer. “Maybe,” I said, trying to keep the smile from appearing on my face. “I might find it faster with two dozen Belgian Chocolate croissants.”

“I’ll see your two and raise you an extra dozen, served personally,” she replied, stepping close and wrapping herself around me. “I love you, Adrien. Don’t let me mess this up right when I’ve finally got you.”

That was it. Whatever anger I had left evaporated and I melted completely, wrapping my paws around her and drawing her into a hug. “Fine,” I said, trying to sound angry but failing miserably. “I’m sorry I reacted so badly. But it really stung.”

“I know,” she said. “I will handle it differently next time,” she added. 

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she said, as she leaned up to kiss me. “Now, let’s deal with this akuma,” she added as she pulled away. “We need to get back by third period, anyway, since we have that exam today.”

“Right,” I groaned, but laughing and feeling a little better about everything. “First: defeat the akuma. Then defeat Geometry. Just another day in Paris.”

“And croissants tonight,” she said as we leapt off to meet our adversary.

“You’re not leading me on, are you, Milady?”

“I promise I will never do that,” she laughed. “_Ever_.”


	22. Easy, Like Sunday Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a tough week for Chat, so you’ll pardon me for going all mushy with this chapter on his behalf. And who knew that doing homework with your special kitty could be so romantic? Apparently, Marinette does; once more back on sound footing with Chat, she decides to host him at the Bakery for a lazy Sunday – turning it into a most special day for her kitty. --ep

A few days after we’d buried the proverbial hatchet, I’d parted ways with Ladybug after another uneventful patrol and had returned to an empty mansion close to midnight. Father was on another business trip, and Nathalie had gone with him again, leaving me to my own devices under the watchful eye of Gorilla. As I landed on the windowsill of my open window, I found myself smiling; the patrol might have been uneventful, but my time with LB had been anything but. 

Closing my eyes, I could almost feel her arms wrapped around my costumed torso, my tail curling around her waist (that had surprised me – until that moment, I hadn’t known it could did more than the most rudimentary cat moves) and her deep blue gaze locked with mine, blazing with love.

It was amazing how much had changed between us.

I dropped down into my bedroom with a rubbery _thump_ and was about to de-transform when my baton chirped. I pulled it out and flipped open to the texting system.

** _Milady:_ ** _ Hey_

** _Chat: _ ** _Miss me already? It’s been, like, five minutes. _

** _Milady: _ ** _Hah hah. No – wondering what you had planned for tomorrow._

** _Chat:_ ** _ Sunday? Just homework. Why?_

** _Milady:_ ** _ Me, too. Come over? But as Chat, parents not ready for Adrien – yet._

That made me smile. 

** _Chat:_ ** _ Sure. Be there with a bell on!_

** _Milady:_ ** _ Awesome. I’ll have fresh goodies._

I slid the baton closed, wide grin on my face, and realized I was wound up enough that getting any sleep now would be nearly impossible. I de-transformed long enough to feed Plagg (and apologize for what was likely going to be a long day for him) and pack up my books before transforming back to Chat Noir and escaping back out into the dark night.

I roamed the city at a leisurely pace for the next several hours before winding up on a rooftop that had a perfect view of the rising sun that Sunday morning. There was just enough cloud cover that the sky went through an amazing array of reds shot through with the golden shafts of sunshine as the brilliant orb rose and chased the stars away. Soon I was enjoying the early morning warmth as the sun hit my costume, and dozed off rather contentedly curled around my bookbag.

The baton buzzed the alarm I’d set, rousting me a few hours later. I stretched out as only I could when transformed, and shook out my blonde mane, clearing the drowsy cobwebs from my feline brain. Then it was a quick leap into the sky and I was en route to my day with Milady.

Marinette had anticipated my timing, or had cheated and tracked me on her Bug Phone. Either way, she was waiting for me on the Bakery rooftop patio when I dropped onto my favorite chimney flu. “Morning, Milady,” I said cheerily. “Did you catch the sunrise today?”

“No,” she said as I dropped down to the railing and balanced facing her. She looked at me askance, making me wonder if some part of my unruly mane was sticking out and an even more unusual angle than normal. “Did you… _sleep_ as Chat Noir?” she asked, somewhat incredulously.

I smiled my sly Chat smile. “Maybe.”

She reached up and tried to smooth back something behind a feline ear, and I intercepted the move by leaning into it and forcing a scratch. Marinette laughed as I pre-emptively began to purr, so she gave a scratch or two but cut me off. “How about some breakfast?” she asked, stepping back to reveal she had thrown a checkered tablecloth over my plant pot and arrayed two place settings around a small quiche. If my feline nose was correct, a spinach and bacon version.

I dropped off the railing and picked her up in a massive hug. “Absolutely,” I said, laughing. “For you know the way to my heart is via my stomach.”

Marinette smiled and took me by the paw. I folded myself behind one side and she took the other, and we enjoyed the delicious dish she’d crafted for us that morning, chatting about everything and nothing companionably. I was certain the pure joy I felt while being in her presence was radiating everywhere; loving – and being loved in return – was a new experience for me that I was easily getting used to.

I helped her clear away the breakfast dishes, saying hello to her parents in the process. It never ceased to amaze me how they had simply accepted me – as Chat Noir – into their home, as if it were completely normal that their daughter would date a superhero. They were ensconced in their family area, scanning the Sunday papers, curled into each other. It was as simple an expression of their feeling for each other as anything I’d even seen, and I filed it away for a later, more appropriate stage in my relationship with Marinette.

Their family was unlike my own in so many ways.

A fresh carafe of coffee and two mugs returned with us to the patio, and we spread out to focus on the work at hand. It was the first time I’d had to use my stylus with claws, though, so the going was pretty slow on the tablet. “This would go faster if I could de-transform,” I complained after mistyping yet another word on the paper I was writing. “Unless you know how to enable ‘claw mode’ on my tablet.”

“I’m pretty sure Apple never created that as an option,” Marinette said as she absently tapped her stylus against the reference book she was scanning. 

Thirty minutes later, I’d accidentally torn several pages from my text book and had added a diagonal scratch across the glass of my tablet’s screen. I’d had it. “Plagg, cla—” I started.

“No, kitty,” Marinette said, quickly putting a finger to my lips. “We still have to figure out how to introduce you to my family as Adrien.”

I gestured to my device. “This is not going well,” I mewled. “And I _liked_ this tablet, too.” I started to work into a righteous indignation but was caught off guard by her reaching up and scratching _just_ the right spot behind a feline ear. I couldn’t help but close my eyes and lean into her touch. 

“So… not… fair…” I said between deep rumbles of purring.

“I know,” she laughed. “But you’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” I said, reluctant to admit anything. But it had helped. I smiled as she stopped, waited a heartbeat, and then rolled into her, wrapping her up into a massive hug.

“Whoa!” she said, caught off guard.

I leaned in and gave her a long kiss. “Thank you,” I said simply, hugging her once more before rolling back to my spot and letting her go.

“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling. “But for what?”

“Giving me a chance,” I said. “Welcoming me. First as a friend, then as something more.” I waved my paw in the air. “This means a lot to a lonely, lonely soul such as mine.”

“Well,” she said, leaning into my shoulder. “You’re definitely not alone any longer, kitty.” She bopped me on my masked nose with her stylus. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Of course, Milady,” I said, falling into my partner parlance.

She laughed. “Good.”

The morning drifted away to the afternoon, and we found ourselves taking a well-deserved break. Marinette was on her chaise, and I was balanced on my side along the railing next to her. I knew it intrigued her how I could so easily keep my balance on something so narrow, and to be perfectly honest, I loved to show off for her… just a little.

She had Jackie O sunglasses on, hiding the fact that she had dozed off in the warmth of the sun – something I’d considered doing as well, given how deliciously wonderful it felt against my costume. But instead, I found myself enthralled, just watching my partner as she gently slept, the very vision of beauty. Again I thanked my lucky kwami that she had come into my life – and that I was now, firmly, part of hers.

I rolled carefully off the railing and went back to our homework, and completed what she had left to do for Chemistry and then wrapped up my paper on _To Kill A Mockingbird_. By the time Marinette yawned and stretched, I’d packed away all of my books and was carefully perched atop my flowerpot, eager masked green eyes watching her every move.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” I said, leaning down to kiss her again. “I probably should head back home, and make an appearance at dinner.”

“Is it that late?” she asked, sleepily. “How long was I dozing?”

“Long enough for me to finish your homework _and_ mine,” I laughed.

“Chat! You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You looked like you needed the rest,” I said as I stepped off the flowerpot and leaned down for a kiss. “But I do have to go…” I paused, a sudden thought coalescing. “Unless, of course, you’d like to join me for dinner, Princess.”

“At the mansion?” she sat up. “That would be a bit risky.”

“No, silly bug,” I laughed. “Let me run my books home and let Gorilla know I’m going out on a date.” I smiled a bit wider. “Then I’ll meet you in our usual spot, after first stopping—”

“_Lasagna!_” she cried. “Oh, I’m all in.”

“Good,” I said, kissing her once more before leaping back to the top of the railing. “See you at 2000, Milady.”


	23. That's The Way It Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing, apparently, my song references from the late eighties and early nineties, we find Chat and Marinette enjoying a little more time together over a fine meal and even finer company – each other. --ep

I’d kept my promise and had continued to visit my favorite rooftop overlooking Notre Dame. The reconstruction had started, and though she wasn’t lit up with her traditional spots, the full moon was providing a different kind of illumination that took your breath away. I knew the plan was to try and get the grand cathedral open again in time for the Olympics we were hosting, and though I didn’t doubt their sincere intentions, I had some concerns they would make the deadline. 

Although by now it probably seemed romantically trite, I’d cheerfully arranged all of my candles along the wrought iron railing and dusted the rooftop with a fragrant layer of fresh rose petals. Two comfy sets of pillows sat side-by-side around a checkered tablecloth, and I had carefully set out the takeaway dishes from Phillippe’s Italian Bistro for the two of us. As I finished up lighting the last of the candles, I heard my favorite sound in the universe as Ladybug zipped down her yo-yo, gracefully landing beside me.

I’d barely turned to embrace her before she’d wrapped her arms around me in a massive hug. Laughing, I leaned into a kiss and then said: “It’s only been a few hours, Milady.”

“I know, Chat,” she said. “But I think I can safely admit now that I really enjoy having you around.”

I kissed her again, and led her by the paw to the cushions. “The feeling is mutual, bugaboo.”

“One second,” she said. “Tikki – spots off!”

Her red transformation wave washed over her, and Marinette stood beside me, her tiny kwami floating nearby. She saw my surprised expression and laughed. “If I recall correctly, you invited _Marinette_ to diner this evening, Chat.”

I thought about that. I guess I had, in a matter of speaking. “I’ll have to be more specific in the future,” I said, smiling widely. “Princess?” I said, realigning my brain as I again led her toward the repast. 

As I sat, I popped open the tin for dessert and removed several of the Italian cookies I’d ordered, handing them to Tikki. She laughed and darted away to the far corner of the roof to give us some privacy, making me wonder if I should de-transform myself and let Plagg spend time with someone I suspected he was quite close to. I said as much to Marinette.

“Maybe in a bit, Chat,” she said. “For now, I want the moment to be just like this. You as Chat, me as Marinette.”

My masked green eyes crinkled with the smile I knew I was also wearing. “As you wish, Milady,” I said, seamlessly swapping between the endearments I used for her. 

The evening was relatively warm, and we settled in to enjoy the amazing lasagna from Phillipe’s with the candles gently flickering around us. I was half-facing the river and saw the moonlight reflecting off of the water and heaved a contented sigh.

“I have an idea,” Marinette said between bites.

“I’m sure you so,” I said. 

She rolled her eyes. “About how we can start to ramp up the Adrien-Marinette angle,” she said. 

I thought about that for a moment, my feelings on that subject seemingly shifting. “I know that was part of our long-range plan,” I started, “but I have to admit, I think I’m leaning more toward hanging out with you as Chat.” I smiled. “No offense to my alter-ego.”

“Unless you’re planning on going to school as Chat, that could prove interesting.”

“I could—”

“That was rhetorical, Chat.” She nabbed a breadstick. “And you can’t stay transformed twenty-four seven anyway.”

I did a mental calculation and realized I might be closing in on twenty-four hours at the moment, but thought better of saying anything. Instead, I said: “What are you cooking up, then?”

“We start by making sure we get paired for projects consistently at school,” she said. “That would provide for the two of us to spend time together in a way that doesn’t seem contrived.”

“Save for us always getting paired together?” It was my turn to roll my eyes.

“Then,” she said, ignoring me, “we start to do stuff together in the community. Volunteering, that sort of thing.”

“Okay.”

“The final part would be the two of us going to the Sweethearts Ball. As a couple.”

“Chat and you?” I asked, laughing and knowing the answer.

“No, silly kitty,” she smiled, in on the joke. “Unless there’s an akuma, I don’t want Chat anywhere near that ballroom floor.”

I pouted. “I can dance, Milady; haven’t you seen the grace with which I baffle our opponents?”

“I have,” she said, laughing harder. “I think you’re likely to trip on your tail, kitty.”

Ego slightly bruised, I stood up and retrieved my baton. “Really,” I said as I flipped it open and flipped to the built-in music player. Quickly scanning the list, I came up with an old Celine Dion song that I queued up. Turning up the speaker volume, I propped the baton up against the bread basket and took a spot along the railing, waiting for the music to start.

Marinette’s eyes widened as the first notes of _That’s The Way It Is_ started, and that magnificent voice issued out of my baton. It was a song I knew well, so I added a bit of lip synching to my performance. Unknown to my partner, perhaps, were the many long hours of dance instruction I had endured as part of my early model training. Father had wanted to cover his bases and ensure he could use me in any possible situation.

I shuffled, shimmied and in some parts, used my tail as a microphone; halfway through, I reached down and pulled her up and into a spin, and started to twirl her around the rooftop, kicking up the rose petals in time to the music. Marinette’s natural grace melded with my training and she was fully into it by the time the final bridge started.

“When life is empty / with no tomorrow / and loneliness starts to call…” I sang.

“Baby don’t worry / forget your sorrow / ‘cause love’s gonna conquer it all…” she sang back.

I swung her around into a final spin, then embraced her, humming along to the final chords with my face buried in her hair, gently swaying to the final beats. We were both breathing a bit heavily; as I leaned back, I could see a thin sheen glimmering along Marinette’s face in the moonlight.

“Well done, Chat,” she said. “I stand corrected.”

“Thank you, Princess—”

“But you still can’t go,” she added hastily, poking me in the chest. “Besides, you’ll be there anyway, won’t you?”

It clicked at that moment for me, the realization that the freedom I experienced while inhabiting the Chat persona was perfectly capable of being transferred to Adrien; that, in fact, much as Adrien had bled into Chat, much of Chat had been folded into Adrien. I knew I was more confident outside of the mask, felt comfortable more often than not saying what I felt, and generally took a stand even when not protected by the Miraculous magic. 

Whatever line I had drawn to keep my two selves separate had been tissue thin and permeable at that. We were really the same person, weren’t we? I had just needed the mask to help me expose more of who I was. Ladybug, and now Marinette, had seen it first. It was high time for me to blend the two and make them one for everyone else.

I smiled. “I will indeed. And I can’t promise a little of my inner Chat won’t peek out, Milady.”

“I would expect nothing less, kitty,” she said, leaning her head back into my chest. We danced slowly like that for a few minutes despite the music having long ended.

At length, Marinette looked up and ran a hand along my mask. “I didn’t know you liked Celine.”

“She was one of my mom’s favorites,” I explained. “And that particular song is one of mine. How can you _not_ like something that tells you love is worth _any_ struggle.” I looked at her. “And it’s true – there is ‘no easy way out’ when you are in love with someone.”

I looked up at the moon, running a thoughtful claw through her hair. “And I’m living proof: love does come to those who believe it.” I kissed her head.

“That’s the way it is.”


	24. Princess for a Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on vacation this week, so I let Chat talk me into a vacation-themed mini-adventure. As summer break begins to wind down for our superhero duo, Chat comes up with a clever plan to celebrate the end of the season. Too bad Hawkmoth has to go and spoil everything. --ep

Despite knowing Ladybug’s true identity, I continued to keep up the charade each evening after wrapping up our nightly patrol. I’d bade her farewell with a typically cheesy pun, she would laugh and then disappear into the night in the direction opposite from the Bakery. I’d cool my paws for a bit watching the stars twinkle over Paris and then make a beeline for the rooftop patio, land on my favorite chimney, and make another cheesy pun as I dropped to my traditional place on the railing. The only indicator of the change in our relationship status would be Marinette leaning in and welcoming me to the rooftop with a few minutes – minutes! – of smooching action.

Honestly, it never got old.

But summer was coming to a close, and in a few weeks we’d be returning to school. That spurred me on one particular evening to make an unusual suggestion.

I’d landed in my usual position on the railing, balanced perfectly as always. “Evening, Purrincess,” I purred.

Marinette took one look at my grin and groaned. “Why do I always get this queasy feeling when I see you smile like that?” she asked, as she came over to me. “What have you done?”

“I’m hurt,” I mewled. 

“Out with it, Chat.”

I unzipped my costume pocket and produced two plastic cards, and handed them to her. “I thought we could celebrate the end of the summer together,” I said, tapping one of the cards with a claw. “The upshot is you get to be Princess for a day!”

She frowned. “You’re taking me to Disneyland?”

“Yes,” I said proudly.

“Not as Chat,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not?” I asked. “I’ve been out in public with you before.”

“You were in a hoodie,” she pointed out. 

“What about the movies?”

“It was cosplay night!” she reminded me.

Smiling wider, I unzipped my other costume pocket and handed her a tri-fold flyer. She scanned it and then looked up at me, eyes narrowed. “Superhero Sunday?” she said. “Seriously?”

I nodded, blonde mane waving as I did so. “What is one more Chat Noir among many?”

“Chat, this is for _Marvel_ superheroes,” she said, pointing to the prominent picture of Captain America on the flyer from Disneyland Paris. 

“It doesn’t say that specifically, Princess,” I said, smiling wider. “Besides, with my charm, how can they not let me through the gates?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Before she could respond, I pulled out a final envelope and handed it to her.

She slit the envelope and rolled her eyes further. “Really, Chat,” she sighed. “I’m a little old—”

“You are only as old as you want to be,” I said, cutting her off and then leaning in for a kiss. “I’ll pick you up at eight on Sunday!” I added as I leapt away from my sputtering partner.

\------

We arrived mid-morning at the wide esplanade for Disneyland, and I cheerfully took Marinette by the arm and headed for the security checkpoint. It was a short train ride from Paris, and I had managed to keep her attention focused on my feline face instead of the furtive looks we’d been receiving. Against my better judgment, I’d consented to the hoodie, beanie and sweats until we entered the Park, but I had a sense, though, that she might renege even on that arrangement and insist that I de-transform to Adrien before allowing me to grace Main Street with my presence.

I had a backup plan just in case.

The first snag hit at the metal detector; my baton triggered all sorts of alarms, and I sheepishly had to dump it into one of the small plastic tubs provided for electronics. A grandfatherly looking Disney Security cast member picked it up and rolled it around, trying to fathom what it was, and beckoned me over once I managed to get through the detector unscathed.

“Son,” he said, “we don’t allow nunchuks in the Park.”

“It’s my phone, officer,” I said, trying for earnest. I held out my paw, which he took a long, long look at before handing me the baton. I quickly slid it open to show it in phone mode, and turned it toward the cast member. “See?”

“Are those… claws?” he asked instead, eyes falling on my now exposed fingertips.

_Nice going, Chat_, I thought. “Uh, yeah,” I said.

He stepped closer to me. “Are you wearing a mask, son?”

“Look, I can explain,” I started, feeling a slight blush of embarrassment creeping up my face. 

Marinette had long since made it to the turnstiles and was watching me flounder, a told-you-so look on her face. I desperately wanted to stick my tongue out at her but stayed civil.

“I have to say,” the Officer continued. “You have the most realistic Chat Noir costume I’ve seen today.”

“I… do?” I said.

“Why are you hiding it?” he asked, as he gently turned me toward the turnstiles. 

“My girlfriend was embarrassed,” I said, leaning into the truth. “It’s actually… hard to put on, so I didn’t want to have to cart it all the way here and then change. I… I’ve been wearing it since we left Paris.” I shrugged. “She made me cover it on the train and until we entered the Park.”

He chuckled. “Have fun, son.”

I turned my megawatt smile on Marinette who fell into step next to me. “Figures,” she said.

“Ladybug Luck,” I breathed as we handed our Disney tickets to the cast member at the turnstile. A moment later, I’d placed my sweats in a locker beneath the train station and stretched slightly, an even bigger smile on my face when I rejoined Marinette.

Main Street was clogged with costumed guests, admittedly mostly representing the better-known comic book superheroes. But to my immense pleasure, they were offset by more than a few black-cladded cats and red-and-black polka-dotted bugs roaming the area, showing where Paris’s true heart lay. I turned to Marinette as we surveyed the crowd. “You could still join the fun, Milady,” I joshed.

“And waste this?” she laughed, holding up the present I’d given her. 

I took her by the paw and hustled her up Main Street toward Sir Mickey’s and the appointment I’d already scheduled. I turned Marinette over to a fairy godmother type at the door who shushed me out and told me to return in an hour. That was plenty of time for me to get through Indiana Jones, Phantom Manor and Space Mountain before returning with two cups of coffee in my paws.

Marinette was waiting for me at the entrance, and she was stunning. I’d booked the Princess Transformation Package, but left it to her to choose which Princess. I was not surprised that she’d gone for Belle; she was adorned in the famous golden ball gown, and her hair had been put up in cascading buns, with a few stray locks framing that beautiful face. Expertly applied makeup with a trace of magical sparkles completed the look, and despite her earlier grumbling, she looked rather pleased with how it had turned out. 

I swapped the small bag holding her street clothes for her coffee, and we started toward Pirates. “Milady,” I bowed formally as we walked, “you look fabulous.”

“Thank you, Sir Chaton,” she laughed. “I feel like I’m eight, though.”

“Everyone is young here,” I pointed out. “That’s part of the magic of the pa—”

I never finished my sentence. Both of us stopped dead in our tracks when we heard the telltale screaming coming from behind us in Fantasyland. I locked eyes with Marinette. “Akuma? Here?”

“Why not,” she said, dumping her coffee and running for a darkened corner. A moment later, she’d run back out as Ladybug.

It was a quick run against the crowd trying to frantically escape that part of the park, and then we were face to face with what looked like human-sized walking version of the ticking clock face from “it’s a small world.” Just thinking about that ride creeps me out, so naturally, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. As we stood at the edge of the melee, we watched as little Small World dolls raced ahead of it; anyone they touched transformed into one of those gleefully smiling dolls, and then they, too, raced ahead and repeated the process. In the space of a few minutes, a lemming-like swarm had been created.

And they were all heading for us.

I grabbed Ladybug and rose up to the edge of the Castle on my baton, where we took up a perch among the parapets overlooking the crowd of scary looking dolls. I turned my masked eyes toward her and ran a paw through my already messy mane. “This is a nightmare incarnate,” I breathed, watching as the mini dolls attempted to scale the Castle walls after us. Some were succeeding.

“No kidding,” Ladybug agreed. She focused on the walking clock tower, and I turned my attention to it as well. “Where do you suppose the akuma is hiding?”

It was a good question. Nothing seemed obvious to me, at least, obvious from a few meters away. “Let me take a reconnaissance run,” I said, and I flipped off the roof before Ladybug could object. 

I dropped behind the Clock in a crouch, which attracted enough attention that the entire thing started to turn in my direction. I rolled sideways, narrowly avoiding a tiny set of doll troops and leapt atop a faux gas lamppost. The Clock turned toward me again. 

“Feeling time trickle away?” I asked pleasantly, my green eyes scanning the akumatized victim. “Purrsonally, I—”

The pun died on my lips; one of those nasty dolls had shimmied up the post and nearly grabbed my tail. I’d managed to pull it away at the last moment, but saw that several more were headed up toward me. I vaulted from the post I was on to the façade for the Mad Tea Cups, gripping one edge with my paw. I couldn’t stay long: the dolls seemed to be tracking me and had already started climbing the posts. 

Taking a chance, I fell forward and into an open spot of pavement in front of Clock, landing in my pounce-crouch, baton in hand. Swiping side to side, I kept the maniacally closing dolls away from me as I desperately searched for anything obvious. I had nearly given up and was about to leap away when my eyes landed on a… Small World doll-shaped bucket?

_That’s got to be it_, I thought. _I bet this is a parent who melted down paying what they charge here for popcorn._

Swirling around one last time to clear a path, I vaulted back up to Ladybug. “Popcorn bucket, left hand,” I said. 

She rolled her eyes. “Really?”

“It’s a collectable,” I shrugged. “How do you want to handle this?”

Ladybug scanned the area and spied the cables they used for Tinkerbell’s nightly fireworks dance. “I might not need my Lucky Charm,” she said thoughtfully. “Let me loop the yo-yo around that and we’ll zipline past it. You just need to touch it as we go by.”

“Got it.” I paused a heartbeat. “Cataclysm!” I cried as Ladybug slung her yo-yo up and grabbed me around the waist.

She pushed off the edge and I rotated down as we quickly slid away from the Castle. Clock had conveniently turned toward us, exposing the bucket, and I grazed the side of it with my ring hand. As we continued away, I watched it turn to dust and release the purple akuma.

Ladybug released me and I landed on all fours; she dropped, gently, and nabbed the escaping butterfly. “No more evildoing for you!” she said, and followed up a moment later with Miraculous Ladybug. In the flash of an eye, her little red helpers swarmed the park and restored the unbelievable number of grinning dolls back to park guests and Disney cast members.

I was kneeling beside the victim when the purple wave washed back over her, revealing a frazzled looking grandmother. As I handed her off to a pair of capable looking Disney cast members, muttering about the prices in the Park, I turned to Ladybug with a bit of a smirk. “I really didn’t want to be right about that,” I said as my ring chirped its first warning.

“Yeah,” she said, pausing for a beat. “Do I want to know how much today cost you?”

“No,” I grinned. “If you’ll pardon me for a moment, Milady, I need to placate a certain kwami…”

When I rejoined Marinette a few minutes later, she had returned to being Belle and was idly standing next to a vending cart selling Mickey Mouse-shaped pretzels. I blinked when I realized she was actually eating one of said pretzels, and was smiling widely when she caught my approach. “Sorry, Chat,” she said apologetically. “I should have waited. But I was starving.”

“I understand, Purrincess,” I said, trying to ignore the rumblings of my own stomach.

She laughed as she produced a second wax-paper wrapped goodie from behind her back. “I always take care of my kitty, Chat,” she chuckled as she saw my masked eyes widen.

“I never doubted it,” I said, the wondrous smell of the salt-topped freshly baked specimen wending its way to my feline nose as I accepted it from her.

“Right,” she continued to laugh. “Where to next?”

“’Second star to the right, and straight on ‘till morning,’” I quoted, taking her hand into my paw.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she laughed. “Why _wouldn’t_ you want to ride Peter Pan…”


	25. Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still on vacation, but for some reason Chat is insisting I keep writing. Who am I to deny his kind request? But be warned, this is another warm and fuzzy entry in this series. As Adrien faces the end of summer and the start of a new term at school, he wonders a bit at the propriety of his relationship with Ladybug and manages to have some semblance of a conversation with Plagg. --ep

Playing the piano was just something I had to do; it had been built into the classical education I’d been given by Father up to the day I’d forced the issue and begun attending a normal school. While the education portion had been replaced by Françoise Dupont High School, the classical aspects to round out that experience had remained, including the endless hours I spent practicing at the baby grand. It had an upshot, of course: several days each week, I would use my phone to record my efforts, blemishes and all, and then play back that recording on evenings when I was actually out and about as Chat. So far, it had managed to fool anyone at the mansion into believing I was in two places at once.

Working through the music, I found myself thinking about the upcoming semester at school. So far, Father hadn’t reversed his decision allowing me to attend Dupont again for the next term. I wondered if Marinette and I would be able to pull off the plan she’d concocted to slowly have our civilian alter-egos begin to become a couple. Especially concerning was the part where, inevitably, Chat and Marinette would need to “break up” in order for Adrien and Marinette to become a reality. We’d not walked through those particulars as yet, and I was perfectly happy to push that out as far as we could.

Plagg had stopped hovering and was watching the news over on my couch. We’d fallen into a comfortable habit where he’d keep a weather eye out for any reasonable emergency that I could use as an excuse to escape the piano – and the mansion – but nothing had cropped up on that particular afternoon. I continued to slog my way through the piece I was to play at some dinner gala in a few weeks, resigned to the fact that I had a few more hours yet before I could meet up with Ladybug.

My eyes flicked longingly to the open window behind Plagg’s television and the twilight of the late afternoon. Paris always looked beautiful to me, and I could see the setup was in place for a beautiful sunset a bit later on. With luck I’d catch it with my Princess. Seeing Plagg relaxing made me a tiny bit jealous, so I decided to intrude on his personal time.

“Is it common for Chat Noir to fall in love with Ladybug?” I asked as I started over again from the top.

“Yeah,” he said distractedly as he shifted channels. “Like, _every_ time.”

That sounded intriguing, although a tiny part of me was sad that I’d not been the first. “It’s the particular pair of Miraculous, isn’t it?” I mused. “We represent opposite ends of the spectrum, so it’s natural we would be attracted to each other.”

“You are an incurable romantic,” Plagg said as he muted the television and floated over to hover above the sheet music. But he was wearing a smile, which was unusual for him. “But yes, that is a good deal of it. Much depends on the particular personalities that are selected, though, too.”

“I could see that.” I flipped a page and continued. “I knew from the first moment I met Ladybug, though. Is that normal?”

Plagg’s smile widened. “Not really,” he said. “Every now and then.”

I rolled my eyes as he floated away to grab some Camembert. I practiced for another fifteen minutes before I’d decided I’d done enough damage for the day, and slid the cover over the keys. I sat there for a few minutes, though, pondering. “Aside from the obvious,” I asked as I stood and wandered toward Plagg, “is there any danger in the two of us being involved?”

“We’re already involved, kid,” Plagg said as he slurped down another slice of cheese.

“Not _us_,” I laughed, “me and Ladybug.”

He rolled to his side, lounging on my coffee table. A year ago I would’ve freaked out to see him on my table; now, I couldn’t imagine a day without him. “Everything the two of you do is dangerous,” he answered sagely. “Add in the fact that you now care for each other, and you have a huge pressure point that can be exploited by someone like Hawkmoth.” He tossed another piece from the package into his mouth.

I frowned. “Are you saying we—”

“No,” Plagg said, more forcefully that I would have expected. He floated up to me. “I’ve seen my share of pairings, Adrien. The two of you have something special, and Tikki and I have no interest in breaking it up. In fact, that would be counterproductive at this point.”

“Okay,” I said, bemused a bit at how affected Plagg appeared to be. I had long suspected he had a heart buried beneath that curmudgeonly exterior but decided not to call him out for it. I flipped over the couch and landed on the seat, unconsciously Chat-like, and grinned at him. “So, can I ask you a personal question then?”

Plagg’s eyes widened. “It depends.”

“Are you and Tikki…?” I asked, trailing off, eyeing him expectantly. I had a hunch the Kwami of Destruction had a soft spot for a certain sugar-loving goddess.

“You know what, I think you’re gonna miss that sunset unless you transform now,” he said, looking purposefully out the window and away from my gaze.

“Plagg, you’re embarrassed.”

“I am _not_,” he said curtly. But his tail was twisting the same way mine did when I felt the same way.

I leaned toward him. “I care for her, too,” I said softly. “I’ll protect both of them.”

He looked at me. “Tikki doesn’t need any protection,” he said a bit defensively. “But if she did—”

“Chat Noir will be there.” I looked at him earnestly. “We’ll _both_ be there. That’s our job, right?”

Plagg’s little green eyes turned back toward me. “One of them,” he reminded me. He softened his tone a bit. “I’ll deny it if you tell anyone, Adrien, but you are one of the best Chat Noirs I’ve worked with in a long, long time.”

“That means a lot to me, my little friend.” I thought better of hugging him, so I smiled instead. “Let’s start the evening, shall we?”

“I don’t say this often. But transform already,” he grinned.

“Plagg – claws out!”

The green wave of transformation washed over me and a moment later I’d leapt to the windowsill as Chat Noir, tail flapping behind me. I paused for a moment there, turning to take in my bedroom. For so long, it had represented my entire universe; I stretched out an arm and twisted the skin-tight fabric in the light, using it as a reminder that my worldview had shifted significantly the day that Miraculous box appeared on my coffee table.

I knew why Master Fu had chosen me, and felt like for the most part I had lived up to his – and Paris’s – expectations. It had taken me a long time to measure up in Ladybug’s estimation, but I’d cleared that hurdle, too. I no longer felt like an imposter hiding behind the Chat mask. I _was_ him. 

And he was me.

I pushed off and vaulted over the fence, tumbling in the air and landing on the rooftop opposite. As I started to jog across the roof, I popped open my baton and checked to see if Ladybug’s GPS was active. I raised a masked eyebrow when I saw she was already at our normal meeting spot, a good hour early. Leaping into the air to cross an alleyway, I landed and started running, simultaneously speed dialing her on the Cat Phone.

“Hey,” I said, jumping again. “You’re out early, Milady.”

“Early bug catches the Chat,” she said. “How far out are you?”

“Ten minutes, less if I hang up and helicopter.”

“I have pastries, if that helps.”

“Say no more,” I laughed as I hung up and lengthened the baton for helicopter mode. I made excellent time and dropped in beside her on a gently sloping roof facing the Eiffel Tower. Sliding the baton in place behind my back, I drew her into a hug with one arm while trying to snake the other into the bakery basket beside her.

“Sometimes, I think you only love me for my baking,” Ladybug said as she smacked my paw away and then smothered my response with a kiss.

Once I was able to pull away, I cocked a masked eyebrow at her. “I can’t believe you think me so shallow, Milady.” I paused. “There are your looks, too, of course…”

I managed to duck sideways from the yo-yo headed for my head, but just barely. But she was laughing. “Fine,” she said, masked eyes crinkling as she drew back the napkin covering the pastries I had already been smelling.

We settled back against the rooftop tiles and watched the sun slowly work its way toward the horizon, eating croissants that I knew she had made by hand just for us. As the golden rays began to shoot through the girders of the landmark, I leaned my blonde mane against her shoulder and broke the companionable silence.

“I know, someday, this will come to an end,” I said quietly. “Paris won’t need us as Chat and Ladybug, and our kwamis will move on to another place they are needed.” 

“You’re existential this evening,” Ladybug said. “What brought this on?”

“I was talking with Plagg before coming out to meet you.” I closed my masked eyes. “When that time comes, I’ll have a hard time giving this up. But I know now that when I do, I’ll still have you.” 

I cracked a masked green eye at her. “I will always be there for you, and I know you’ll be there for me. Mask or no mask.”

She leaned down and kissed me in that spot between my two feline ears. “Mask or no mask, you’ll always be mine, kitty.” Ladybug reached an arm around me. “Always.”


	26. Identity Crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out and about one evening, Chat encounters an akuma and tries to tackle it on his own, with unexpected consequences Marinette has to sort out.

It took way longer than normal for me to make it to the Bakery. Once I finally managed to pull myself up and over the brick wall I normally landed upon with such aplomb, I stopped short of applauding my efforts. The chimney I would think nothing of vaulting toward now seemed light years away from me.

Option two was trying to walk across the wrought iron artwork, so I went that route, and made it barely a quarter of the way before I slipped and dropped onto the tile below in a heap of fur. I shook my mane as I pushed myself back up: generally I landed on my paws, but tonight was extraordinary in all ways.

The skylight was just in front of me, so I trotted over to it; opening it was now out of the question, so I simply extended my claws and scratched, trying hard not to look at my reflection in the glass. When Marinette didn’t immediately appear, I scratched again, a bit more vigorously.

_C’mon, c’mon! _I thought, a bit frantically. _You’ve got to be here!_

Given how the evening had gone down, though, it wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d been out. Fortunately, a few moments later Marinette pushed open the skylight and looked me over. “Hey, kitty,” she said warmly. “Where did you come from?”

I didn’t wait and leapt directly at her. To my horror, she shrieked and ducked, and I sailed right past her and into the back of the skylight, hitting it like a bad Muppet skit. My claws found no purchase on the glass, and I dropped like a rock onto her bed below, again in a heap of limbs. I tried to right myself but snagged my claws in the blanket and couldn’t disentangle myself before Marinette had regained her composure and dropped in next to me.

Gently, she pulled me off the blanket and unhooked my claws. “There,” she said. “I don’t know where you came from, but you sure look you’ve had a long day. Want something to eat? Milk?”

I shook my head at her, and that made her pause.

“Tuna?”

I shook my head again.

She held me closer, and took a long hard look at me, eyes finally landing on the bell on my collar. “Belgian Chocolate croissants? And coffee?”

I nodded and started purring. That was about all I could really do, vocally, at the moment.

Marinette put me down on the bed and stroked between my ears; my purring went up a notch or two and I leaned into her hand, green eyes narrowed. _Make the connection, Milady._

“Dear Lord,” Marinette breathed, eyes widening. “Chat, what happened?”

There was no way I could actually _tell_ her. Losing the ability to talk had come with the sudden transformation into a real black cat, courtesy of an akuma I’d stumbled upon after leaving the Bakery that evening. I hadn’t had time to even get out a cheesy pun before it had turned some wand-like object on me; I’d tried to deflect whatever it was with the baton, but instead found myself mere centimeters from the ground and a shadow of my former self. My normal model-skinniness had morphed into an extremely svelte, and very tiny, feline.

My green eyes were carefully locked on Marinette’s deep blue and I watched as she turned the situation over in her mind. “Akuma?”

I nodded.

“How far?”

I dropped off the bed and ran around the perimeter of her bedroom three times, and then stopped next to the box of wooden blocks she used when babysitting.

“Three blocks? Which way?”

I twisted my body toward the Trocadero.

“Tikki – spots on!” she said, and the red wave of transformation washed over her. A moment later, I was staring at my partner, who was pointing a gloved finger at me. “We’ll discuss later why you’re in trouble,” she said, “but for now, stay put! I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

That was not what I wanted to hear, so I quickly jumped up to the bed to try and escape to the rooftop patio. Even in my pure cat form, thought, Ladybug was still faster than me and had already snapped the skylight shut. “No,” she said firmly. “You can’t do anything like that,” she pointed out. 

I mewled something awful, but she ignored me and dropped back to the floor to make sure the trapdoor was locked, and her windows secured before returning to the bed. Gently, she knocked me off the bed and then swiftly exited, ensuring the skylight had been firmly shut behind her. 

I growled and leaped up the ladder to the bed again, but the skylight was totally out of reach. I was nowhere strong enough to move it anyway. In short, she’d caged me in her bedroom.

Dropping back to the floor again, I started pacing the space, restlessly worried about my partner. The entire time I had visions of her being zapped into a literal bug. She was right, it wasn’t like I’d be much help anyway, but old habits died hard. I remained angry enough that I was sorely tempted to destroy something with my claws; at length, I folded myself into a cat stance atop her chaise, green eyes boring into the skylight.

Time passed slowly for me as a cat. It may have only been a few minutes, but it seemed like hours had gone by before the skylight opened again, and Marinette dropped back to the bed. Her shocked expression when she saw me on the chaise, though, spoke volumes. “You’re… you’re still a cat?”

_Seriously?_ my expression said. _What does it look like, Princess?_

She came down the ladder and knelt. “I don’t understand. Miraculous Ladybug didn’t restore you!”

That made me a bit uncomfortable. Of course she would have called on her spell! I held a paw up to my face, saw it was still a real paw, and suddenly had visions of this nightmare becoming a reality. My ears flattened as I looked back at her.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Let’s just try this again, shall we?”

I watched as she transformed back to Ladybug, and then called up her Lucky Charm. In a burst of red and white light, a teapot dropped from the sky.

My heart sunk.

Ladybug looked at me, holding the teapot. “Well, Chat,” she said, a wry smile on her face. “Want to go on a road trip?”


	27. Roundabout Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly looking to remain a cat forever, Chat and Marinette visit Master Fu to find out why the Miraculous Cure failed to revert him to human form. And if he has no answers? They might have to get creative…

I was small enough now that Ladybug had no problem putting me under an arm and yo-yoing her way across the city toward Master Fu. Chafing just a bit at being, essentially, a sidekick, I nevertheless kept myself from squirming – at least, for the most part. I dreaded the possibility that she might offer me a cat treat for behaving when we dropped into a side alley close to Master Fu’s building.

She transformed back to Marinette and picked me back up again, carefully crossing the empty street, entering the apartment building and taking the elevator to Master Fu’s floor. He always seemed to be expecting us, and this time was no different: he was patiently standing in his doorway when the elevator doors opened.

“Ladybug,” he said, nodding to Marinette. He then looked down at me. “Chat Noir.”

“So, you can see our problem,” Marinette said as we entered his front room. She let me down and I wandered over to the small table holding the tea set. “Chat was hit by an akuma, and my Miraculous Ladybug spell didn’t fix him.”

Master Fu settled in on a pillow, and Marinette took another next to him. Not to be outdone, I took a third, and curled up in a direction facing both of them. It was weird being discussed in third person while being in the room.

The Guardian of the Miraculous stroked his beard thoughtfully. “It can happen that the Miraculous Cure doesn’t completely restore everything,” he said, staring into space. “I’m trying to recall if I’ve ever encountered a situation where a transformed holder became their namesake, though.”

I narrowed my eyes. If someone with his number of decades had never seen this, I was in real trouble.

Marinette seemed to be on the same wavelength. “If you’ve never seen this before, is this a peculiar effect from Hawkmoth’s misuse of the Moth Brooch?”

“Maybe,” he replied, still stroking his beard.

We both waited for him to give us some amazingly strange explanation and equally fantastical solution. When none came immediately, I stood, stretched, and walked over to Marinette. In a completely cat like fashion, I rubbed my face up against her thigh and then looked up at her, expectantly.

I swung my face around again; Master Fu was still staring out into space, slowly stroking his beard. An hour later, dawn was threatening to appear and I had explored every nook and cranny in the apartment I could squeeze my small form into. It was rather appalling how many dust bunnies were hidden behind the furniture, given the stature of Master Fu. I had to assume the duties of a Guardian precluded hiring a cleaning service.

Marinette was looking as frustrated as I felt when she finally broke the silence. “Master…?”

Fu turned toward her, and suddenly saw her as if she’d just appeared, magically. “I’m sorry, Ladybug. I’ve reviewed almost everything I can remember and I have no answers for you. I’ll go through the Grimoire photos I have and see if there is anything there, but it will take some time.”

If I could have, my feline face would have displayed dismay. School started in a few hours, not to mention Nathalie would be expecting to wake me prior. A missing Adrien would create another all-hands-on-deck incident with my Father that we would need to avoid at all costs. I turned to Marinette, who had made the same judgement. “Adrien will be missed, Master Fu. Is there anything you can suggest?”

“No, my child,” he replied as pulled his iPad toward him and started to flick through the Grimoire album. “I will hurry as fast as I can and will contact you the moment I find something.”

She nodded at the dismissal, and I rubbed up against her so she could pick me up again. “Thank you,” she said as we turned to leave. “I know you’ll do what you can.”

The way she said it perked my ears up, and I managed to catch that determined glance she often got in her eyes when she was up against an intractable opponent. Marinette transformed to Ladybug in a side alley outside the building and carefully tucked me under her arm for the ride back to the bakery.

Except we skipped right past it.

I meowed at her.

“I have a thought,” she said as she worked her yo-yo through the lightening sky. 

Carefully, she dropped down into the street where I had encountered the akuma. “Stay here, Chat.”

I wasn’t certain what she thought she would find, but she’d set me down on top of bench and then started to roam the area. If she had told me what she was looking for, I could have helped; so, naturally, I dropped off the bench and trotted behind her.

She frowned. “You don’t follow instructions well, do you?”

I meowed.

“Exactly,” she said, and then, as if she’d actually understood what I wanted to know, she continued. “I think you dropped something – rather, I’m hoping you dropped something when you were transformed by the akuma.”

_What? Dropped what? I don’t think I lost my ring, and everything else is pretty much firmly attached to me…_

“Where were you standing, exactly?”

I looked up at her, and then tried to guess my position. From my slightly lower perspective, it took a moment to get my bearings, but once I did, I trotted to about the spot I’d been crouched in with my baton. Ladybug followed me and then stopped above me.

Having no idea what she was looking for, and fearing that I might have lost my ring, I started a slow circle, looking for a flash of silver against the cobblestones. It seemed unlikely, though; the fact I had a bell on currently made me think that despite currently being a cat, I was actually still transformed as Chat. Somehow.

I kept at it, though, and Ladybug searched as well. I’d nearly made it to the shops on the far side when I heard a cry of success from Ladybug. I quickly ran over to her, bell ringing along the way, and found her proudly holding up my baton. “This is promising,” she said.

I just stared at her. _How will that help, Milady? _my green eyes asked, though the baton confirmed my theory.

“You have to still be transformed,” she said as she knelt down to me. “This wouldn’t exist otherwise. The question is, if we can figure out how to de-transform you, would that break the hold of whatever the akuma did to you?”

_Logical as always, Milady. But I have no idea how you’ll be able to… hang on…_

I nuzzled her hand holding the baton. When she didn’t immediately understand, I put a paw on the illuminated green paw print. “Okay,” she said, pressing the pad that I’d indicated.

The phone function popped open, and Ladybug just looked at me. I twisted a bit and tried to paw her yo-yo, which was just out of my reach without getting on my hind legs. But she saw where I was going and pulled it from her waist, then held it out to me.

_How do I explain this? How about…_

I tapped her yo-yo with a paw, and then leaned my ear to it, and meowed. Then I quickly went to my baton, and leaned my other ear into it and meowed again. Just in case she hadn’t caught it the first time, I repeated the pantomime.

“I think I see what you want,” she said, “but I don’t understand what it gets me.”

I rubbed her arm encouragingly, and purred a bit. 

She smiled as she popped the bug phone open and dialed my baton. She put hers on speaker.

As I anticipated, it rang through the baton, which buzzed; when I didn’t pick up, it went to voicemail. Ladybug’s eyes widened when she heard my voicemail greeting.

_“Hey, it’s Chat. It’s clawsome that you called, but as I’m currently indisposed, I purromise to call you right back. Sooner if it’s Ladybug.”_

“I see where you’re going,” Ladybug nodded, smiling, “and if I edit that audio a bit, it might work. But we’re missing one key trigger word.”

I mewled. She was right, and I couldn’t think of any audio I might have with me saying “Plagg.”

“Don’t worry, kitty,” she laughed. “I think we might not need it.” She scooped me up and tossed her yo-yo to the sky, and in short order we were landing in my bedroom at the mansion. The sun was a little bit above the horizon, meaning we had about thirty minutes before Nathalie would burst in.

“I’m going to borrow your computer,” she said as she pulled out my chair and sat down. 

I leapt up to the desktop and sat by the keyboard and watched as she deftly used the microphone to grab the audio from my voicemail box, and then made short work of editing it down using the music software I had. She sat back a few minutes later.

“Moment of truth,” she said. “Ready?”

I meowed and rubbed against her hand. _Not much harm in trying._

Ladybug triggered the audio player on my computer. “Claws… in…” my voice said from the speakers. 

I thought she’d done a great job paring down the file, but when nothing happened, I started to feel a bit depressed. Ladybug played it a few more times with no discernable effect, and then sat back in my chair. 

I leapt down into her lap and curled up on her. She’d made the attempt, that was all I could ask for. Now we’d have to wait for—

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug suddenly blurted out, tossing her yo-yo into the air of my bedroom. It shocked me badly enough that I’d leapt from the chair to hide under the computer.

A small voice recorder dropped into her hands, and she smiled, clearly expecting it. “This might solve the problem,” she said, and leaned in to grab a recording of my voice from the computer.

I snuck out from the table and cocked my head at her. _How?_ I asked with my eyes.

She leaned down and tucked the recorder into my collar. “Let’s try this,” she said, as she pressed the replay button.

“Claws… in…” I heard from just below my chin.

The green flash of de-transformation appeared and washed over me, and moment later, I was on hands and knees as Adrien. I’d never been so happy to see my human fingers in my life.

Plagg floated up from me. “That was getting old, fast.”

“Says the black cat of destruction,” I laughed as I stood. “I’d hoped that would work. But we should see if I can transform to ‘normal’ Chat Noir.”

“Agreed,” Ladybug said.

Plagg rolled his eyes but had to agree. “Let's get this over as fast as we can,” he said. “I'm hungry.”

I took a deep breath. “Plagg – claws out!”

The green wave of transformation washed over me, and a moment later I was standing in front of Ladybug as Chat Noir. At last.

“This feels purrfect,” I said, stretching out my limbs a bit, more to make sure that they were covered in black leather and not black fur. I looked back at Ladybug. “I’m still worried about the ‘why’ your Miraculous Cure didn’t work, though. And I don’t truly understand how de-transforming corrected me.”

Ladybug frowned. “As to the first, I’m concerned as well. We’ll have to follow up with Master Fu on that, I think.” She looked at me. “The second is easier,” she said. “The akuma affected your transformed self; therefore, dropping your transformation broke the spell.” She smiled a bit. “Adrien hadn’t been affected. Q.E.D.”

I smiled back at her. “Well, however it worked, I’m just happy to—” I paused suddenly, my feline ears picking up telltale footsteps on the staircase. “Nathalie!” I hissed.

I pushed Ladybug into my bathroom. “Hide -- closet!” I said quickly as I slid the door shut behind us and shoved her into my walk-in closet. I vaulted to the shower and turned it on full, then hurried back to the door, hoping beyond hope my classic shower dodge would work one more time.

Pressing a feline ear to the door, I heard Nathalie enter. “Adrien?”

“Shower!” I said briskly, hoping the slight change in voice I had as Chat wasn’t obvious with the water running. I might have turned it up a bit hot, as the space was starting to fill with steam.

“You’re early this morning,” she said. “Breakfast is ready when you come down.”

“Thanks!” I said and heard her exit the space.

Silently grateful, I slid down to the wall to the tile. Marinette poked her head out of my closet, and I started in shock, only to realize her earrings had probably been chirping. “I transformed as soon as you turned on the water,” she said, answering my silent question.

I stood and hugged her, hard. “What a night.” I paused. “Plagg – claws in.”

One green flash later, I’d returned to Adrien and dashed over to turn off the shower. “I’d ask you to breakfast,” I said, “but I’m not sure I want to answer the questions that would raise.”

She smirked. “Among other things,” she laughed.

I slid the bathroom door open and we stepped back into the bedroom. “You can exit the window—”

“Adrien?”

My head snapped around. Nathalie was just inside the bedroom door, one hand on the doorknob and a smattering of emotions crossing her face. Which in itself was unusual. I felt my own face flame with embarrassment, and then go a shade deeper when I realized it would confirm what she was thinking.

“Nathalie,” I said. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“You can explain that to your Father.” She paused. “I’d only returned to tell you he would join you for breakfast this morning,” she added, eyes flicking to Marinette. “I’m sure he will want to meet your… friend.”

If it was possible, my face had gone bright crimson. What a night, indeed.


	28. Breakfast at Adrien's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: So, whoops! Adrien is caught with a girl in his bedroom, and of all days, it happens to be one that Gabriel decides he’s going to have breakfast with his son. This won’t be a problem, surely...

Nathalie stared at us, icily, and waited by the door. She had no intention of leaving me alone at this point, so I shrugged and took Marinette by the hand. We walked past the iceberg of my Father’s assistant and down the steps to the foyer, pausing beneath the massive chandelier.

“I’m sorry about this,” I whispered quietly as we headed for the dining room.

“I can handle it, Chat,” Marinette said equally as quietly. 

I raised an eyebrow. “Which persona can I expect in there, Milady?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“The one that will be needed at the time,” she smiled.

_Oh, great,_ I thought.

The door was already open, and my usual place was set. Nathalie came in behind us and quickly set a spot for Marinette to my right; Father’s spot was also ready, but he was not present yet. The buffet behind was fully stocked and smelled great. I motioned to Marinette and she followed me to the food, which we both piled high on our plates before returning to the table.

I was buttering a croissant that was nowhere nearly as good as Marinette’s when Father burst through the door and quickly moved to the banquet. “Adrien,” he said curtly. “Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.”

“Father.” I waited for the shoe to drop; Father delayed until he was settled in at the head of the table and had sipped his coffee. “While I am not opposed to you having overnight guests, Adrien, I would prefer that you clear them with me first. Especially those of the opposite gender.”

I felt my face redden slightly, and tried to channel some Chat to stay calm. “It’s not quite like that,” I started. “But at the risk of making the situation worse, you should know that Marinette is my girlfriend.”

Something wafted over his normally composed expression. "Your... girlfriend?”

“Yes,” I said, imparting some deliberateness to my emphasis of the word. It was not an item up for debate.

“Adrien,” Father said, slowly, with fire in those eyes of his, “fourteen-year-old boys do not have girls spending the night.”

I willed the flame on my face to abate and looked at Father defiantly. “Aside from your lack of faith in my character, Marinette did not spend the night.”

“I’m listening.”

This was the tricky part of the explanation. I glanced sidelong at Marinette, and she inclined her head slightly. “We were working on a special research project for school,” I said, trying to lean into the truth. “A research paper on the effect of feral cats in Paris.” I looked to Marinette. “Unfortunately, we became attached to one pawticular cat we found late yesterday afternoon and by the time we’d made sure it was fine, it was four in the morning.” 

_Whoops! I hope he missed that._

“You were working on a... paper?”

“Extra credit,” Marinette piped up. “We still have a day or two of field research planned, but normally it won’t go so late.” She shrugged. “The vet we took the cat to was very slow,” she said, catching my eye. I could see the glint in it.

Father looked at us.

“I didn't want to wake you when we got in, so I let Marinette use the couch in my room to catch a quick cat nap.” I caught Marinette’s quick smile. “I assure you, Father, I was the consummate gentleman.”

He continued to look at us, mulling over what we had offered up as our excuse. Slowly, he sliced off a piece of cheese from the wheel that was beside him, placed it upon a slice of baguette, and deliberately took a bite. I didn’t spend much time with Father, so I wasn’t comfortable reading him, but I had to assume that not getting an immediate grounding was positive.

Father polished off the rest of the baguette, and pushed back from his chair. “In the future, I would prefer you wake me or any of my staff, and we’ll ensure a guest room is prepared.” He turned toward Marinette. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Mademoiselle. I have duties to attend to, if you’ll excuse me.”

And with that, both he and Nathalie swept out of the room, leaving the two of us alone.

I let out the breath I was holding and turned to my Princess. “Well, we dodged a bit of a bullet there.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Until he asks to see the paper.”

I groaned. “He’s just likely enough to do that. Great, one more thing to do.”

Marinette pulled her phone out of her purse. “We need to get to school,” she said. “And I need to tell my parents where I’ve been all night.”

I leaned closer. “Limo or air service?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Air,” she said.

We left the dining room and while Marinette took a quiet corner of the foyer to call her parents and repeat our cover story, I informed Nathalie that the two of us would be walking to school together. Oddly, she seemed to have thawed now that she knew of my relationship, and quickly acquiesced. A few minutes later, the two of us were exiting the gates of the mansion and quickly entering a nearby alleyway to transform.

Once we were up above the rooftops as Chat Noir and Ladybug and making our way toward Dupont, I found myself grinning and shot past her. Not to be outdone, Ladybug lassoed a chimney and executed a neat mid-air loop-de-loop, winding up ahead of me by a good body length. 

I was running out of space as the façade of our school was looming up. Running across a rooftop, I vaulted up into the air and then helicoptered up and over my partner; at the highest point, I streamlined into a dive and shot down toward the roof. The wind was whipping through my mane as I approached the tile; I curled into a ball and hit the roof, rolling out into a crouch up against the edge of the courtyard.

I looked back to the sky, expectantly.

“I’d give it an eight for execution,” I heard coming from beside me. 

I rotated slightly, pulling my eyes from the sky.

Ladybug was standing a few meters from me, smiling widely. I realized immediately I’d committed the cardinal error – I'd not looked before leaping. “Nicely done, Milady,” I laughed as I stood and headed toward her.

She pulled me into a hug, but quickly let go. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

“See you in class,” I laughed, and I trotted to the far side of the roof to curl myself down and into the men’s locker room. Ladybug was mirroring me on the near side for the ladies.

I tumbled over the edge, hooking a claw on the brick to leap through the open window, landing on the marginally grimy floor in a crouch – and immediately went on alert. Something was off, and I scanned the dimly lit space. When nothing seemed immediately awry, I crept over to the door and cracked it open.

Where it had been sunny just a few moments earlier, clouds had covered the sky, or at least, the portion viewable from the courtyard. Snow was gently falling into the space, which brought an odd serenity. I pulled the door open a bit more, and saw that it had accumulated quickly; some enterprising souls had already created some snowmen (and women) in the space.

I blinked.

It dawned on me that the snowpeople were my classmates when I saw Chloe emerge from a classroom, put hand out to the falling snowflakes, and in a flash become another member of the snow crew. I pulled out my baton and speed dialed Ladybug; she hadn’t de-transformed yet and picked up. “Milady,” I said, “we have a snow problem...”


	29. Snow Drifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When we last saw our heroes, they’d survived breakfast with Gabriel only to have been set upon by an akuma intent on turning Paris into a winter wonderland – and its citizens into denizens of ice. Given it’s barely the beginning of the new school year, it’s not an optimal time for a snow day; but will it prove deceptively challenging for Chat and Ladybug?

The temperature had dropped precipitously in the few minutes it had been snowing. My costume normally protected me from extremes, so the mere fact that I _felt_ cold told me we were much further below freezing than should be possible for snow to form. As I watched the snow pile up against the men’s room door, my breath frosted out in front of me; the air was so cold, in fact, little pinpricks of icy pain hit my nose with each inhalation.

There wasn’t enough ice to warrant going into Ice Mode, though that costume would have felt mighty cozy about then. Teeth chattering, I twisted my baton to pop my earwig out of the base, and steadied my shivering long enough to get it into my human ear. 

Ladybug was already online. “I don’t know about you,” she said as I heard her chattering as well, “but I’m dreaming of Spring Break already. Someplace like Majorca. Or Tahiti.”

“No argument from me there, Milady,” I replied, eyeing the drift. It was now even with the handle, and I had to step back a bit to avoid coming in contact with what was blowing through the door. The door itself had frozen on its hinges, so closing it wasn’t an option any longer. Nor was opening it, for that matter.

“I can’t go out through the main door,” I said as I trotted back to the window. Carefully, I stepped to the side and looked out; while the window was open, exiting that way wasn’t going to be an option either. The snow was falling heavily around the perimeter of the school. “My window isn’t viable any longer. What are you looking at?”

“Same,” she said. “And we already know that even touching the stuff is bad news.”

I watched in fascination as the mirrors over the sink started to frost over. “This is worse than what that Frozer did to the city,” I observed. “I could Cataclysm over to you, but then what? And is it worth going into Ice Mode?”

“I don’t know, Chat,” Ladybug said. “Have you even seen the akuma?”

My eyes widened a bit in shock. “No, now that you mention it,” I replied. I hurried back to the door, rubbing my gloved hands together to generate some warmth while wishing I’d had a pair or two of those mittens Marinette was constantly knitting. Maybe she could do a pair that were open at the top for my claws…

“I’m gonna call for my Lucky Charm,” Ladybug said. “Maybe it will give me an idea.”

“Hang on,” I said, a bit worried. “Do you have enough food on hand to recharge Tikki if you do?”

There was a long pause. “No,” she said after a long moment. “I gave her my last cookie at breakfast and didn’t grab anything from the buffet for her.”

“Will she eat cheese in a pinch?” I asked. I knew I had at least one slice on me – not nearly enough for my bottomless pit of a kwami. But I was sure he’d split it with Tikki if needed. 

“If she has to,” Ladybug laughed. “Better get over here, then.”

I held up my hand and was about to call up my secret super power when I paused, then dashed to my locker. It took some effort to pry the frozen door open, but I found my backup canister of camembert beneath my gym clothes. (The placement was by request of a certain Kwami of Destruction, I should point out.)

Hurrying back to the shared wall between the two spaces, I decided to go old school. Taking out my baton, I rode it up to a small air grate embedded near the ceiling; angling myself slightly, I kicked it out and noted with some small satisfaction the air duct had a similar grate facing the other space.

“Hello, gorgeous,” I said, as I twisted again and launched myself through the tight space, crashing through the grate and landing in a crouch next to a smirking Ladybug.

“Hello yourself,” she said as she helped me up. “I expected rubble, not finesse.”

“I’m a Chat of many talents, Milady,” I said, as I bowed and handed her my small tin. “I remembered I had this in my locker.”

“Why thank you,” she said, and kissed me. “Now, to business. Lucky Charm!” she cried, and the room filled with her special red and white light. 

A red-and-black polka-dotted bag fell heavily to the locker room floor and split open, spilling part of its contents. My nose immediately wrinkled at the smell. “Calcium Chloride,” I said. “Cute.”

“What am I supposed to do---”

“It melts snow, Milady. Even at really low temperatures.” I knelt to the bag and grabbed a handful, rolled to the door, and flung it out into the courtyard. A pathway immediately appeared, though the melting snow turned to ice relatively quickly. At the speed the snow was currently falling, it refilled with snow fast.

I somersaulted back to her – more an attempt to stay warm than anything else. “I don’t think we have enough to get out of here, though. And I’m not sure where we want to go yet, anyway.”

Ladybug was looking thoughtful, which sometimes scared me. “Do you think you can rotate your baton fast enough to act like a fan?”

“Maybe?” I said. “Let me try.”

I pulled out my baton as I trotted to the door, and yanked it as far open as I could manage. Even with my enhanced strength, it was frozen pretty solidly so I only gained a few inches; it was enough, though, to give me space for whatever breeze I came up with. I extended the baton slightly and went into shield mode, then tried my best to spin it even faster.

Ladybug had come up behind me, and despite her chattering teeth, smiled at my results. For I’d managed to blow back the falling snow significantly. “If I sow the Calcium Chloride, you might be able to protect us from the snowflakes long enough for us to cross the courtyard.”

I stopped twirling and eyed the space beyond. “But why cross? What is your Lucky Vision telling you?” I turned back toward her for her response and felt my masked eyes widen – her lips were blue.

In an instant, I stood back up and wrapped myself around her protectively, imparting what little warmth I could. “Maybe we should go into Ice Mode,” I said, chattering a bit myself now. “At least we’d be warmer.”

“Agreed,” she said. “That and the way the Calcium Chloride is melting, we’ll have a few moments of ice.” She snuggled into me. “You’ll have to do the transformation,” she said. “If I detransform now, I’ll lose the Lucky Charm.” As if to emphasize the point, her earrings chirped their four-minute warning.

“Milady, my original question stands.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not seeing anything other than we’ll be in a better position to deal with this akuma out there – especially if we can leave the school.”

“You think this is localized to the school?” I nodded. “Okay, I can work with that.” Carefully, I released her. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

“Plagg – claws in!”

My green flash of transformation washed over me and Plagg was there floating by my arm, frowning. “I detest transformations,” he complained as I fished out my special tin of camembert. “Are you sure you need it?”

“Yes, my little friend. I’m sorry.” I popped open the canister and located the wedge for Ice Mode, and held it out to him. “I’ll try to keep it as short as I can.”

Grimacing, he took the cheese and gulped it down. “Whenever you’re ready,” he growled. 

“Plagg – claws out!”

The green wave washed over me, and I was left in my more appropriate cold weather version of Chat Noir, which included a costume that was _definitely_ warmer than my normal attire. The ice skates made me slightly taller, so I had to bend slightly more to pick up Ladybug. “The mechanics are going to be interesting,” I observed. “Can you balance on my feel _and_ hold that bag?”

“Maybe. Hold on…” she said as she stepped back off. “Can I borrow your tail for a moment?”

I nodded, seeing where she was going, and unbuckled my belt. Deftly she held the bag to her chest, and I wrapped my belt around her, hooking it to her. Then she stepped back up on my feet, and I used a second wrap of the belt around both of us, buckling it in front of Ladybug. “Smart, Milady,” I said appreciatively as I skated to the door. Holding my baton above me, I asked: “Up and out?”

“If you can,” she said. “Otherwise, get us as close to the exit or a stairwell. Or, barring that, something covered.”

“Got it.” I started twirling the baton, keeping the speed above shield mode but below helicopter. “On three…?”

I could feel Ladybug shivering violently now; she simply nodded against my chest and took a handful out of the bag.

“One… two… three!”

Ladybug tossed handful after handful of the Calcium Chloride in front of me as I skated out into the open space, blasting back the falling snow with my swirling baton. The ice formed quickly under us, and I moved as rapidly as I could across the courtyard. Ignoring the cramp forming in my bicep, I made my way toward the massive double doors that led to the street. Fortunately, they were wide open owing to the fact that the school day had barely started when the akuma hit.

“Quarter of a bag gone,” Ladybug said as we neared the steps.

I took a chance and hastened my pace slightly, narrowly skating just behind the ice as it formed. I had to hop up the steps, and we made it out the main doors; the ice formed a sheet that I was able to skate on down to street level. I came to a stop on the sidewalk, still furiously twirling the baton.

We were wrong. The entire city was blanketed in a heavy coat of snow that was getting deeper. Where it had caught living souls, there now stood multiple sizes of snow people, frozen in place as they had been going about their day in Paris. “We appear to have a bigger problem, Milady,” I said.

As she was buckled in facing away from me, I couldn’t see her expression but her voice conveyed her shock. “This is worse than Frozer,” she said quietly. 

I looked for some sort of cover to get out from beneath the silent but deadly snowflakes. “How much do you have left in that bag?”

“About half,” she said.

Looking back up the steps, I could see our original track was already obliterated. But it was either the back to the school, or across the street to the Metro. Anything else might be too far – especially given the chirping of her earrings. I continued to power through the cramp that was threatening to derail the entire operation. “School or Metro?”

“Bakery,” she said instantly. “We should have enough to get there. Can you manage it that far? It’s closer than the mansion and we can regroup there.”

“Yes,” I said, with a certainty I didn’t feel. Gritting my teeth, I turned and we skated toward the Bakery as quickly as she could throw down the Calcium Chloride. We managed to make the awning of the Bakery just as Ladybug’s earrings chirped their final thirty second warning. The door to the shop was open, and I knew instantly the two snow people in front – one tall, one short – were Ladybug’s parents, fatally attracted to the unusual late summer snow storm just outside their windows. 

I slid to a stop inside the store, just against the counter. The space was empty save for the now flash-frozen baked goods, which in itself was a major travesty. I started to say as much when Ladybug’s transformation dropped, allowing Tikki to float away and leaving Marinette strapped to me sans bag of Calcium Chloride.

“That was close,” I said, trying to stretch out my complaining muscles.

“Too close,” Marinette replied as she unbuckled herself and re-fastened my tail to my costume for me. I appreciated the help: as rubbery as my arms felt, I wasn’t sure I could even hold a croissant at that point.

Marinette walked to the window and I skated next to her. Trying not to look at the frozen forms of her parents, she instead gazed across to the frozen park and the now two-foot-high snow drifts. “At the rate it’s currently snowing,” she observed, “in a few hours, the city will quite literally be buried.”

“What do we do?” I asked, finding myself without any appropriate puns. The full impact of this rather soft but intractably dangerous opponent we were facing was just beginning to hit me. “Granted, finding the akuma is our priority, but I don’t have a sense of where we should start looking.” I looked back toward the fountain in the park, now frozen solid. “And any physical trail we might have had is rapidly becoming hidden.”

I could see Marinette was shivering again, and I wrapped myself around her once more. “Honestly, Chat?” she said quietly. “For once, I don’t have a clue.”

_That_ scared me more than any akuma we had ever faced.


	30. Snow Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the drifts pile higher in Paris, Chat and Ladybug struggle to come up with a plan to defeat the unseen akuma wreaking quiet havoc across the city. The answer will take some creativity – but not without sacrifice.

The temperature had fallen enough that even in Ice Mode, I was starting to get chilled to the bone. That was despite Marinette retrieving every last square yard of knitted material she had on hand, including a rather nifty beanie that had two slits for my feline ears. Apparently she’d been planning on surprising me with it at the holiday, and I promised to erase it from my feline memory banks so it could still be a gift. 

She’d also transformed into her matching Ladybug Ice Mode, more to try and stay warm that for any other practical reason; it was nearly too cold now for sheet ice to form, so the skates were becoming more of an impediment that anything else. “This is like being locked in a meat freezer,” she observed. 

“I’ve only had that honor once or twice,” I chattered, my mind flashing to when we’d had to fight Alya and I’d become trapped in the freezer at the Grand Hotel. My cheeks still flamed just remembering the icy tinkle of my Miraculous sliding off my hand during that little escapade – and frantically trying to find it before Lady Wifi managed to get Ladybug’s earrings. 

Ladybug caught my expression. “Hey,” she said, putting a hand to my face. “We’ve come a long way since then,” she said with a trace of a smile as she appeared to once more read my mind.

I held her gloved hand in a paw. “We have indeed, Mon Amour.”

We were huddled by Tom’s oven, which had a trace of a flame still going. Fortunately for us, he’d been baking a few loaves of bread when the akuma hit, and though we’d not been able to salvage them (the burning smell is what alerted us that it was still working) , the two meter radius of heat emanating from the bricks was something. As used to sucking up the sun’s warmth as I was when Chat, I’d nearly glued myself to one side of the oven and was still shivering. Ladybug was facing the open stove, gloved hands outstretched. “Can’t you just call up a massive stove as your Lucky Charm?” I asked, jumping up and down on my skates to try and keep the blood moving.

“Sure,” she said. “That’s _exactly _how it works, Chat.”

“I was being facetious, Milady,” I added, hearing her implied criticism.

She turned toward me with a wry smile. “Sorry, Chat,” she apologized. “I know you were—”

“Being Chat,” I finished for her, twisting around to hug her. “It’s my solemn duty to crack jokes during serious crises. You know that.”

Ladybug put knit-capped head to my chest and chuckled. “Indeed it is, kitty.”

“So,” I started cautiously. “I know I’m not the brains of this operation—”

“Whoever told you that?” Her head popped off my chest and her eyes were piercing. 

“Uh,” I felt my face coloring a bit. “Well, nobody I suppose. But since you’re usually the one that comes up with ‘the plan’ I just assumed—"

“That your opinion doesn’t matter?” She pulled back a bit from me. “Chat? Are you serious? I’ve _never_ felt that way.”

I colored a bit more. It was still a struggle for me to recognize when someone valued me as a person versus when they wanted to simply use me to further their own goals. In my heart, I knew Ladybug was right, but there were times when I did feel like just the brawns of the partnership. But I still wasn’t comfortable expressing that to her. So, naturally, I twisted it to a joke. “At the risk of changing your opinion about me, I have a thought.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“We started by assuming we needed to get to the akuma. Maybe it’s simpler than that – if we make ourselves visible, it will find us. After all, their end goal is generally the same.”

“Yeah, grab our Miraculous.”

My eyes flicked to the windows of the shop, which were buried beneath the snow now. “I recommend heading to your roof. I can spin up the shield for a bit and we just kinda make some noise.” I shrugged. “At this point, there can’t be too many Parisians out and about. We should stick out.”

“Not bad, Chat,” Ladybug said, but her eyes were twinkling the way they did when she had a plan cooking. “I’ll just adjust that slightly—”

She escaped from my hug and retrieved the three singed loafs we’d saved from the oven. I watched as she pushed them back into the stove, close enough to the heat source that they started to smoke within a few minutes.

I raised a masked eyebrow. “Smoke signals?”

“Exactly,” she said. “C’mon.”

Getting up to her bedroom, and then through the skylight while on ice skates should have been harder than it turned out to be, but a few moments later, we were huddled beneath the canvas tarp she had over a portion of the patio. I’d had to prod it with my baton to release the pressure of the built-up snow, but it was holding solid and allowed me to rest up -- for I was certain I’d need to spin up my newly christened Snow Shield before this escapade was over.

“And for the noise part?” Ladybug asked.

“I was kinda hoping you had some Luck in that department, Milady.”

She groaned. “Why did I know you were going to say that?” she asked. “Good thing I have one last thawed macaroon for Tikki.”

“I still have cheese, too.”

Unclipping her yo-yo, she threw it into the air and called on her Lucky Charm. We stood back and watched as a polka-dotted karaoke machine, complete with a full set of disco-era lights, dropped in front of us. My masked eyes widened, and I waved my paws at her. “No way. Nuh-uh.”

“You said make some noise!” she laughed. “You should have been more specific. Maybe I could have gotten fireworks instead.”

I looked at the microphone sitting atop the device and groaned. “The only good thing about this is that Alya is frozen somewhere and will never, ever hear this.”

“Punch up the song,” she said, “and crank the volume.”

Resigned to my fate, I picked up the microphone in one paw and activated the system with a claw. The lights sprung to life, and created an impressive show against the sparkling snow that continued to fall. After ensuring the volume dial couldn’t go any higher, I tapped the “start” button on the touchscreen. My reward? The opening strains of _Marshmallow World_ started to reverberate across Paris.

“Seriously?” I mewled, looking at Ladybug. “Your kwami has quite the sense of humor.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” she laughed. 

Sighing, I waited for the words to begin to scroll across the screen. Taking in a breath, I started to belt it out, trying to channel Dean Martin.

_Oh, it’s a marshmallow world in the wintah!_  
When the snow comes to cover the ground.  
It’s the time for play!  
It’s a whipped-cream day!  
I wait for it the whole year round.

Between the black smoke now belching from the chimney behind me and the flashing lights, I wasn’t sure my vocal talents were necessarily adding anything. But onward I continued.

_Now those marshmallow clouds being friendly_  
In the arms of the ever-green-trees  
And the sun is red like a pumpkin hay  
It's shining so your nose won't freeze

Both of us were scanning the horizon, and the further I got into the song, the less hopeful I was that this was going to do what I wanted. 

_Oh' the world is the snowball, see how it grows_  
That's how it grows  
Whenever it snows  
The world is the snowball just for our soul  
So get up and roll it along

As I made my way through the bridge and started the final verse, I thought my feline eyes had caught something off along the avenue that ran along the river and was opposite the Bakery. I lost my place on the scrolling text for a moment, but caught it and continued, somewhat worried the metal of the microphone was freezing to my paw.

_It's a yumm yummy world made for sweet hearts_  
Take a walk with your favorite bug  
It's a sugar date when spring is late  
In winter it's a marshmallow world

“There!” Ladybug cried, and pointed. 

I’d seen it too; a small, brilliantly colored individual seemed to be cross-country skiing toward us, carrying a wake of snow along with it. The wind started to whip in our direction, and I dropped the microphone so I could protect us with my baton shield. “Guess they like a good cat call,” I quipped.

“Or they just want to put you out of your misery,” Ladybug parried back.

“Ouch,” I said, pushing back the wave of snow as it came in. “Well, I got us this far. What’s the next part of the plan?”

“Since we’re down one Lucky Charm, we’re gonna need to improvise a bit,” she said, just as her earrings chirped the start of their relentless countdown.

“All right.” The gust had turned into a gale, and I was pushed back a bit.

“Look out!” Ladybug cried as she pushed me, for the edge of my skate had nearly hit the snow drift behind us. 

Unusually for me, her shove made me lose my balance and I lurched forward; the skates skidded across the exposed roof beneath the canvas and I couldn’t stop from sliding directly into a massive drift, buried up to my waist.

In a blink, I felt a tingling sensation begin at my toes and start to race up my body; massive snowflakes were dropping onto my mane and I could feel a similar sensation start there. I had seconds before I joined the rest of my fellow Parisians in frozen slumber.

“Cataclysm!” Ladybug yelled at me. “Do it now!”

“But—”

“You’re no use to me as a catsicle! _Do it!_”

Sluggishly, I raised my ring hand. “Cataclysm!” I managed to utter just as the icy embrace rolled down my face, causing the world to go white and then fade away.


	31. Spring Thaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what? Let’s just dive in, shall we? Even I want to know how this turns out. --ep

It was amazingly peaceful there in the ice, but it didn’t last; the frosting effect hit my active Cataclysm and the ice around me shattered. Before I could register it, Ladybug had lassoed me with her yo-yo and yanked me back under the canvas, directly into her embrace.

“That was close,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said morosely, “and now we’re down a Cataclysm, too.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I am up one Chat Noir. I’ll take that any day.” Ladybug punctuated the sentiment with a sweet kiss. “But now, Kitty, we’re going to have to try and solve this old school in the next three minutes.”

“That’s a tall order,” I said, sneaking a glance back down to the street. Our unnamed akuma was standing below us in front of the bakery, contemplating perhaps how to reach us on the balcony. It gave us a few moments, if that, to strategize.

I turned back to her. “This would’ve been a good time to have Team Miraculous assembled.”

Ladybug’s eyes widened. “Of course!” she cried, swooping in and kissing me again. “You’re brilliant, Chat!”

“Uh—” I started, thoroughly confused.

“C’mon,” she said, “we need to get back the bedroom.”

We slid backwards toward the skylight, and dropped through; I was reaching up to close the portal when it was hit by a burst of snow that I narrowly managed to deflect with the baton. “I have no desire to see a white Christmas this year,” I observed as I snapped it shut and dropped beside her. “So what was my brilliance?”

Ladybug was at her desk, her earrings chirping as she dug through the drawers. “Here!” she cried, holding up the familiar shape of a Miraculous box. “Backup!”

I made a show of looking around the bedroom. “Milady, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s just the two of us…”

“I know, silly kitty,” she said quickly. “But unless I miss my mark, Wayzz might be able to help us as is.”

“Why—”

“I was going to return this when you arrived as a cat, Chat,” she explained quickly as she snapped open the box. “You interrupted me, as usual.”

I rolled my eyes as the box exploded with the Miraculous magic and the little green kwami appeared. “Ladybug,” he said formally as he took a quick look around. “How may I be of service?”

“Can you cast Shell-ter without a holder present?” Ladybug quickly asked. “Chat and I have already used our superpowers, and I’m not certain we have time to recharge—”

She didn’t complete her sentence as the bedroom window facing the street blew inward in a spray of glass and snow. I was in front of her in a flash, using the baton to swirl away the danger, but the damage was done. It had begun to snow inside her bedroom, though for now, it was confined to the area immediately around the window.

“Better speed up the explanation, Milady,” I advised, pressing them back toward the trapdoor exit.

“Yes,” Wayzz said simply. “Where?”

“I need just a moment,” Ladybug said, turning back to me. “There’s something in the kitchen we can use.”

My ring chirped – I was down to four minutes myself. I craned my neck. “You’ve only got two dots left. Hurry!”

“Get as close to the window as you can!” she called as she dropped through the trapdoor. 

I skated carefully toward the destroyed window, avoiding the snow that had piled up. Peeking, I could see the snow drifts had reached the floor below hers; as fast as it was piling up, our akuma friend need only wait us out: we’d either freeze because we’d lost our transformation, or we’d freeze once the snow completely surrounded the Bakery. 

A moment later, I heard the trapdoor again. “Got it,” Ladybug said, then: “I need your tail.”

I had long ago stopped asking questions when she was in Lucky Vision mode. Quickly, I started to unbuckle my belt tail, which was a little more involved in Ice Mode, but she stopped me. “No, I am going to grab it. You’re going to sling skate around us around the akuma while I hit it with this.”

She held up a sizable blowtorch, one that I had seen Tom use to caramelize masses of desserts for catering. “That won’t make much of a dent,” I laughed. 

“We don’t need it to,” she said, as her earrings chirped the final one-minute. “Wayzz, can Shell-ter completely surround us?”

“Yes,” he nodded, smiling. “I see what you want to do.”

I did too, and nodded. “We’ll leap,” I said, “and then create the shell around us.” My ring chirped as well. “Now would be a good time…”

“Ready,” she said, grabbing my tail in one hand, lighting the blowtorch with the other.

I sprung through the destroyed window and into the air, pulling along Ladybug with me as I helicoptered away the falling snow. As we rose, the akuma shifted its gaze toward us, but before it could do anything, there was a flash and we were surrounded completely but the turtlesque shell spell.

We dropped to the surface Wayzz had provided and I dug my skates in, allowing Ladybug to sling herself forward. She released my tail at the last possible moment, and went skating past the akuma faster than it could react – but not before she managed to hit what appeared to be a snow cone in the akuma’s hand with the blow torch.

The ice melted quickly under the caress of the flame, and before it could refreeze, the telltale purple wings of the akuma butterfly appeared and started to make a break for it.

“Time to de-evilize!” Ladybug cried, snagging the butterfly with her yo-yo from where she’d skidding to a stop on the far side of the shell. Quickly she purified the butterfly and released it, and just as her earrings started their relentless thirty-second chirps, tossed the yo-yo up: “Miraculous Ladybug!”

In a flash, her red helpers appeared and swarmed in numbers I had never seen before. I blinked, and we had settled back on the street in front of the Bakery, still surrounded by the shell; on the other side of the translucent shield, I could see a perplexed Tom and Sabine peering in. 

“Chat? Ladybug?” Tom asked. “What happened?”

I pointed to my costume pocket, and Wayzz wisely phased into it; the shield faded and we were in the delightfully warm sunshine of a gorgeous day in Paris. “Go,” I said to Ladybug. “I’ll catch up.”

She nodded and lassoed away from the Bakery on her yo-yo. I turned and helped up a tween, who was looking very confused. “Let me guess,” I smiled. “They were out of grape?”

“No,” he said, still looking confused. “Mom told me I couldn’t have any.”

I tried hard not to roll my eyes. How many times had Hawkmoth preyed upon classic childhood emotions in an effort to get our Miraculous? It was patently unfair. And, perhaps, uncalled for.

I wrapped a black-cladded arm around him and navigated him toward Tom. “These nice people will make sure you get something to replace that snow cone,” I said, cognizant of the fact that I was down to one icon on my ring. “Then they’ll see you get home,” I added, catching Sabine’s eye.

“Absolutely,” she said as she took my ward and the three of them entered the bakery.

I sprung up and into the now blue, cloudless sky and helicoptered to my favorite rooftop looking toward the rebuilding of Notre Dame. Marinette was already there; I dropped down and waited long enough for Wayzz to phase back out of my pocket before calling out: “Plagg – claws in.”

After my green wave of transformation washed over me, three kwamis and two humans found themselves looking at each other. “I’ve got a final piece of cheese,” I said, pulling it out and splitting into thirds. “Will this hold everyone over until we get back to the Bakery?”

Plagg uncharacteristically said nothing, and handed Tikki his slice as well as the one she had taken from me. “I’m good,” he said, though I knew he was lying.

“Thank you,” Wayzz said, his manners too refined to even grimace at the ripe odor of Plagg’s favorite treat.

Plagg’s not eating meant Ladybug got to ferry me back to the Bakery rooftop patio once Tikki had downed the cheese; after dropping her transformation a final time, she disappeared to the kitchen and returned with a baking tray piled high with pastries for us, and a secondary fruit and cheese tray that Plagg nabbed and took to a far side of the patio. Tikki and Wayzz joined him, giving Marinette and I some time alone.

Together, we sat on the lounger; Marinette had her head on my chest and I played with her pigtail ribbons (once a cat, always a cat) as we both munched. “We really should get to school,” I pointed out. “I don’t imagine they will consider it a snow day, now that we’ve melted it for the city.”

“I have a… cold…” Marinette laughed. “And so do you.”

“Your parents---”

“Are supporting me skipping today.” She looked up. “Owing to the stress of being frozen by an akuma.”

“Milady,” I said, cracking a Chat smile, “I believe _I_ was the one frozen.”

“I wasn’t specific about which of us had fallen victim to the akuma,” she winked.

Hugging her, I sighed. “I’m corrupting you,” I observed. “Turning you toward the ways of the Black Chat.”

“Yes,” she smiled back at me. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	32. Chat Goes Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I wrap up work on No Strings and The Three Chats, I found myself realizing I didn’t want to wait until October to revisit this version of these characters. I have to admit they remain among my favorites so far, so, as promised, here begins new content for the teenaged superheroes. If it’s been a bit, you might want to back up to remember where we are in this particular story’s timeline. Even I had to take some time to review the thirty-one (!) prior chapters; go ahead, take a peek. I’ll wait.
> 
> Always looking for a way to make a difference in the community, Marinette decides to work with a local charity – and manages to rope Chat into lending a paw. Not that he wouldn’t, anyway. --ep

“You want me to _what?_” I said, masked eyes wide with shock.

Marinette’s small face smiled up at me from the baton phone. “Come shopping with me.”

“As… as _Chat?_” I repeated a bit numbly, still not quite believing what my feline ears had heard.

“Yes,” she said.

“Milady, you know I would do anything for you…”

“Yes,” she repeated, a bit too smugly for my tastes.

I sighed. There was no question she had my number. “Are you _absolutely_ sure? This sort of goes against everything---”

“It’s for charity, Chat,” she reminded me. “And it’s not the first time either Chat or Ladybug pitched in for a good cause.”

“I know,” I said, barely preventing a mewling tone. “But usually that involves building a house, or cleaning a park. Or—”

“Consider it branching out,” she offered.

“Princess, there are _already_ rumors swirling that you’re dating Chat,” I said, pulling out my last trump card. “We’re supposed to be clearing the path for Adrien to date you, remember? If Alya sees us together like that—”

“I’ve got it covered,” she said. “She’ll be busy, along with Nino, on the far side of the city.”

Getting desperate, I frantically sought another excuse. “The press—”

“Chat,” Marinette said with true Ladybug emphasis. “Please.”

I looked at her, knowing I was probably huffing a bit like a fish. But I couldn’t deny her. “All right,” I said, bowing my head in defeat. “When and where?”

“Saturday at eight. Come to the Bakery, and then you can spirit me to Thibodeau’s.”

“Of course, Milady,” I said, looking up through my bangs at her. “See you in class tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” she laughed. “And don’t act like I’ve stolen your pet hamster.”

“As you wish,” I intoned, smiling slightly at her reaction as I closed the baton.

I was perched on an antenna atop a residential block not far from the Grevin; I’d finished my homework early that evening, but as Marinette had been tied up in late evening meetings at Dupont – part of her duties as class President – I’d been at loose ends and had decided to prowl the city for a few hours before turning in. Her unexpected call had first brought joy to my heart, thinking I’d still get some time in with my girlfriend that evening, but it had faded fast when she explained the harebrained scheme she’d come up with.

I sighed again and looked out across the twinkling lights of Paris at night. Actually, it wasn’t all that harebrained; she’d managed to connect with a local charity that provided entry-level jobseekers with high quality wardrobe options for that first interview – folks who would find it a challenge to afford that first suit ensemble. The charity provided the funds, and then worked with local department stores in Paris to get a hefty discount on reasonable current fashion; volunteers from the world of fashion would then fan out on a specific weekend morning to select items that would be handed out that evening.

Financial donations to the charity were down this year, though, so Marinette was hoping that having a high-profile volunteer might attract some additional funds. Unfortunately, Chat happened to be on her speed dial; though Chat wasn’t exactly a _known_ fashion insider, I had to grudgingly admit it would attract the attention she was hoping for.

Saturday arrived and found me landing atop my favorite chimney flue on the Bakery with a gentle, rubbery thump. Marinette was already waiting for me on the rooftop patio below, and I hopped to my usual spot on the railing beside her. “This is another fine mess you’ve gotten me into,”’ I said, frowning as best as I could, but my Chat smile won out; it was hard not to be joyous when in her presence.

“You’ll love every minute of being in the spotlight,” she said. “Put some of those model tricks of yours to work and you’ll have the press eating out of your paw.”

My masked eyes flew wide. “Press?” I hissed. “I thought—”

“Come on,” she said, leaping toward me and forcing me to catch her. “We’re gonna be late!”

Trying hard not be upset, I leapt into the sky and worked my way over the rooftops toward one of the oldest continuously family-operated department stores in Paris. I was less than impressed that we were going to be the focus of the media, but in retrospect, I should have realized that’s what her intent would have been in the first place. And the charity needed the support, so what was one morning of discomfort? At least I got to spend it with Marinette.

I landed on the rooftop of the venerable department store, and then used my baton to ride down to street level. I’d already heard the gaggle of people waiting for us a few blocks out, and had settled my masked visage into a trademark Chat smile as we gently landed together on the sidewalk. I was no stranger to major media affairs, as Adrien had been to more than his share of movie premieres or opening nights at the opera. Still, it was a bit different being on display in my rather form-fitting costume, with the love of my life hanging off an arm.

Something immediately set me on edge, though; keeping my smile firmly in place, my feline senses went into overdrive. I must have tensed slightly, for Marinette turned slightly and whispered: “What?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, waving a paw to the crowd as we moved toward the ornate revolving door. “But I just went on yellow alert.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Chat,” she murmured, “if you need me to—”

“Let’s keep that as a backup,” I whispered as we entered the main floor of the store.

My feline ears immediately went straight up as the shrieks washed down from the second floor, the telltale leading indicator that the morning’s schedule was about to go off the rails. Escalators divided the space in half, connecting this floor to the second; there were another pair connecting the second to the third. The up escalator a few meters in front of me was not operational, but that wasn’t stopping the panicked store staff from streaming down and out the emergency exit.

Placing Marinette behind me, I turned and took my baton to the revolving door, shattering it into a wider egress before waving the running personnel through it. “Get as far away as you can!” I shouted. “Go!”

Marinette, to my chagrin, had taken up position on the other side, helping people through as well. I knew better than to chastise her, and instead focused my feline hearing on the interior; it sounded like no one was left on the upper floors, but there would only be one way to tell. 

“I’ve got to clear the building,” I said as I looked up through the open center of the atrium. I caught a quick movement that I didn’t like at all.

On instinct, I leapt across to Marinette, wrapped my arm around her and vaulted off to one side, landing next to cosmetic counter. A couch crashed down where we’d been standing a fraction of a moment later. I barely had time to register our near miss before I hurled Marinette away from me and dove in the opposite direction; several bolts of fabric, clearly from the tailoring department, smashed into the counter, flattening it completely and sending a cascade of cosmetics across the floor. My feline nose wrinkled at the unfortunate combination of several perfumes that would never, ever be worn together.

Reasonably certain she was okay, I nonetheless called out to Marinette from my new position crouched behind a display of cookware. “Princess!”

“I’m fine---” she started to reply, but her answer mutated into an angry yell. “Put me _down!_” I heard her cry.

Heart beating loudly in my ears, I leaned around the corner and saw Marinette being hauled away by a tall, very well-dressed akuma. He appeared to be sporting a three-piece suit, topped off with a bowler. The fabric shimmered in the low light of the department store, and as I watched, he levitated his way up the disabled escalator.

Marinette was over his shoulder, and for her part, was pounding on him angrily. Unfortunately, she didn’t have her Ladybug-enhanced strength and therefore wasn’t making much of an impression on her captor. I tried not to smile at her effort, though; she _was_ rather cute when incensed.

My baton was already in my hand, and I extended it into staff mode before leaping up and over the akuma, landing just a few steps ahead of him on the escalator. “This far… no further!” I yelled, spinning my baton in his face.

His eyes were red and focused on me immediately. While I sorted through options for getting Marinette away from him, Haberdasher started to laugh at me. “Hawkmoth thought I could get your attention this way,” he cackled. It was a full-body effort, and I feared he might drop Marinette in the process.

I stepped down a step, closing the distance. “Let her go,” I said menacingly.

“Or what?” he laughed. 

“I’ll take her from you,” I said, eyes narrowing. “And you won’t like the way I do it.”

He kept laughing; my feline brain kicked into gear, realizing he was delaying for some reason. I gave myself over to instinct and sprang into the air, up and away from him, and used a paw to cling to the third-floor railing rimming the space. Looking down, my masked eyes widened. The entire stock of men’s ties appeared to be floating about where I had been standing, and, after a brief pause, shot toward my new position. It didn’t take much imagination to conjure up the nightmare they could become if they got close to me – there had to be more than a hundred of various sizes, colors and fabrics. 

More than enough to create a Chat mummy.

I hauled myself over the edge and scampered through the bedding and bath department, my feline hearing picking up the faint hiss of the ties as they closed on me. Circling around, I kept all of my senses on high, knowing it was quite likely the ties were not the only surprise. We’d dealt with enough akumas now that I’d become more adept at expecting the unexpected.

As I came back toward the center atrium, leaping a king bed and then the queen beside it, I chanced a glance behind me and wished I hadn’t. I hurdled a set of twin beds, then hooked a claw in the last one, tearing the fabric as I swung beneath the display. Using my momentum, I slid all the way across the room beneath the various bed sets, coming up against the far wall once more.

It bought me just a few moments, but it allowed me to leap up once more, going through a tile of the drop ceiling that fell to the floor below in pieces. Hooking my claws around a cable channel, I swung up and into the space between it and the actual ceiling, then frantically clambered across the channel on all fours. Furiously, I looked for what I hoped I would find, hearing the swish of the fabric as the space behind me filled with hundreds of meters of men’s cravats.

Luck was on my side as my night vision caught the HVAC shaft; my hearing told me it was of the old-school variety, pressurized to move air in a specific direction. I redoubled my pace, and leapt the final meters, driving my claws into the side of the metalwork. I waited a heartbeat, then wrapped my tail around the cable channel before pulling away the panel. I growled with effort as the metal shrieked beneath my paws, and much too slowly opened a meter-by-a-meter hole. I was rewarded feeling the air in the crawlway begin to be sucked into the HVAC shaft.

Turning, I watched as the ties surged toward me, then intractably were drawn into the HVAC shaft. I didn’t start breathing normally until the last meter of fabric had disappeared into the shaft, and I’d closed the panel behind it. Immediately, I dropped back through the ceiling, landing in a crouch beside new appliances.

It took a moment, but I heard movement below me, then picked up the faint fragrance of Marinette. Growling again, I launched myself toward the atrium railing, hooking a claw to redirect my flight toward the sound. I did a double-barrel roll into a tuck, landing on all fours facing Haberdasher.

He had his back to me, with Marinette still over his shoulder. Thinking fast, I whipped out my baton and extended it, then swung it across the back of his legs, throwing him off balance. He released Marinette as he tried to regain it, and she deftly pushed off him and landed in a crouch before leaping away, running off to the far reaches of the darkened space. I smiled, knowing that I was about to be joined by my partner.

She was likely going to be rather annoyed, too.

“Attacking during a charity event is just uncool,” I said, still in my crouch, and still spinning my baton. “You’re going to have to make a sizable---ooof!”

Something hit me from the side, knocking me to the floor and sending my baton clattering across the room before it rolled over the edge and plunged to the floor below. I heard it clank on the first floor, although it could just have been the bells ringing in my feline brain, too. I barely rolled away before a second set of pots landed next to me. I tried to leap away only to be firmly hit in the back by something very heavy; I was flattened on my face, and tried to push myself up. Despite my augmented super strength, I couldn’t get out from beneath whatever had landed on me, nor could I swivel my head enough to see what it was. But it didn’t matter – he had me now.

“Give up,” I said, though it was kind of hard to breathe. It felt like an elephant was on me, actually. “Now that I have you… right where I want you.”

“I think you have this backwards,” Haberdasher said. He sounded like he was just behind me but closing.

“They… always say that,” I muttered. I tried to push myself up again only to have Haberdasher’s foot come down on my ring hand’s wrist. “Ow!” I cried out.

“This will be over in second, Hero of Paris,” he cackled, leaning over toward my ring.

Not for the first time, I wondered why the Miraculous magic didn’t glue the ring to my finger, much as my costume was more-or-less irremovable. Despite the pain in my wrist, I curled my hand into a claw, knowing it would just delay the inevitable.

Haberdasher frowned slightly, but began to try and pry my fingers apart.

I watched in horrified amazement, struggling to try and keep my hand closed, when I heard the faintest of faint voices say, “Lucky Charm!”

Trying not to smirk, I redoubled my efforts to keep my ring firmly in my possession and give Ladybug the time she needed. It worked for a bit, until Haberdasher shifted the position of his foot on my wrist; he pressed again against a nerve and I gasped in pain, watching as my hand sprung open in response.

Cackling once more, Haberdasher started to slide the ring off.

“Chat! Now!” I heard.

Without questioning the plan, I cried out: “Cataclysm!”

Haberdasher jumped back as my hand started to spark, but not fast enough; I saw the tip of an umbrella appear, knocking his bowler hat off his head… and directly onto my opened ring hand.

The hat turned brown and dissolved; a moment later, the purple butterfly appeared, only to be snagged by Ladybug’s yo-yo. One Miraculous Ladybug later, the department store was more or less back to normal and I was sitting beside the lead tailor from the men’s department, who was wearing that unfocused expression they all had after shaking off the akuma magic.

“You’re fine now,” I said gently, looking over his shoulder at my partner. “It’s over.”

“Where… where am I?”

“Thibodeau’s, second floor,” I said. “Though I assume you are from the third floor. I love your suits, by the way.”

He looked at me, taking in the cat suit. “You… you do?”

I smiled. “Well, I can’t wear this _all_ the time, now can I?” I laughed, though in truth, I’d never wear non-House of Gabriel attire as long as Father controlled my life.

“You could,” I heard Ladybug say. 

I swung around to see the mischievous glint to her eye. “Milady—” I started to say, but the chirping of my ring short circuited further discussion. “Whoops,” I said, eyes going to my ring just as the second pad blinked out, “I’ve got to scat!” I looked back to Ladybug. “I’ll… uh… see you around, bugaboo?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll make sure Marinette gets home safely,” she added with a wink so subtle I’m sure I was the only one to catch it.

I grinned and flipped over the edge of the atrium, then ran through the now-restored revolving door, pole vaulting into the sky and barely making it to a rooftop before loosing my transformation. 

Plagg floated up by my shoulder and accepted the cheese I dredged out of my supply for him. “I’ll never look at ties quite the same again,” I said as I leaned against the sun-warmed brick. I fought the temptation to close my eyes and take a quick catnap, wondering once more how cat tendencies had been folded into my human form.

“And those colors,” Plagg said solemnly. “Whoa. Ugly.”

There was a whisper on the wind, and a moment later, Ladybug dropped down beside me and released her own transformation. “Kitty,” Marinette said as she snuggled in next to me on the brick. “So much for our charity work,” she lamented as she fished out a macaroon for Tikki.

I watched as the pink kwami snatched the goodie from Marinette’s fingers and floated over to chat with Plagg. “Well,” I smiled as I wrapped an arm around my girlfriend, “if I can pry Plagg away from Tikki, we can try this whole thing once again.”

“Okay,” she said. “But we can relax for a bit.”

“Do you ever wonder what the real story is between those too?” I asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said. “But I think their story is likely the same as ours.”

“Just longer-running,” I laughed, attracting a glare from Plagg. 

She pressed her head into my chest. “May ours last just as long,” she whispered.

“Amen,” I breathed.


	33. Special Features

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MalcolmReynolds and I had a conversation after the last update musing on just how many cat-like abilities would be manifesting for Adrien; while I generally hint that a few items (hearing, smelling) are traits that Adrien uses regularly in his civilian life, it got me wondering about the wider picture – and what, perhaps, Marinette was experiencing as well. –ep

A little more than a year into my gig at Chat Noir, I was feeling pretty comfortable with my abilities behind the mask. I knew I still had a lot to learn about who I was becoming, and what I could do, but realizing _that_ was something of a change in my thinking, too. I still recoiled in horror at some of my early missteps (yeah, CopyCat still haunted my dreams from time to time), but liked to think I was blossoming, as it were, under the patient tutelage of my partner.

On a random Tuesday morning, though, I noticed a change that concerned me.

Something tickling at my feline ears brought me up through deep layers of slumber, layers I was thinking I really didn’t want to go through. We’d fought back a particularly tough akuma into the wee hours of the morning, and I was still feeling exhausted. I swiped a paw at the irritation, intending to roll over and snatch a few more minutes of sleep before bolting upright in my bed, fully awake.

The room was still dark, but my green-grey night vision had kicked in; it was a bit fuzzy, though, but regardless, I felt a tiny bit of panic. It wasn’t like me to fall asleep as Chat Noir – well, I _had _done it from time to time, but usually in safer spots, such as Marinette’s rooftop balcony. “Plagg – claws in!”

“Whaddyah talking about, kid,” I heard a sleepy voice say next to me. “In? Or out?”

I turned, and could see the hazy shape of my kwami where he was still lounging on my pillow. “Plagg,” I said, voice notching up an octive with a bit of panic. “Why is my night vision working?”

I saw and felt him quickly move to a spot just in front of my frowning face. “You can see me?” he asked.

“Sort of,” I admitted. “Not as well as if I were transformed.” I paused, thinking back to what woke me. “And I would’ve sworn I could feel my feline ears a moment ago,” I added, running my hand across my hair, confirming they weren’t there.

“Really,” Plagg said. “Well, this isn’t _entirely_ unexpected.”

I reached over to the nightstand and clicked the light on. “What isn’t?”

He answered my question with a question. “How long have you been able to hear better? As Adrien?”

“What do you mean?”

Plagg poofed away from me. “Can you still hear me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, still unsure of what was happening.

He poofed back. “I was downstairs in the foyer just now.” His tiny eyes narrowed. “You’ve been hearing Nathalie approaching for some time, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been able to hear her on the stairs for few months now,” I said carefully. “And… more recently, if I focus, I can hear her talking on the phone or moving around in the atelier, though not with a lot of clarity.” I paused. “Not like Chat can.”

“Huh. How about your ability to smell Marinette’s scent profile? While being Adrien?”

My face warmed with embarrassment; I said, very quietly, “Uh… at least that long, I guess.”

“Sight?” he pressed.

“Maybe,” I said, not having really thought about it. Feeling a bit frustrated, I tried to short circuit where he was going. “What’s happening to me?”

Plagg smiled at my slightly-panicked expression. “Don’t worry, kid. It’s completely normal – well, as normal as it can be, when you are a Miraculous holder.”

“Normal? What’s normal?”

Plagg floated back to his pillow. “The longer you hold the Cat miraculous, the more your human side will begin to express your superior feline capabilities. It’s part of the deal, kid. They won’t be exactly the same; think of them as… enhancements to your human abilities.” He snuggled back into the pillow. “Think of them as… special features.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” he repeated. “Every one of my holders has experienced it.” He paused, and gave me the gimlet eye. “Given how long you stay transformed, though, I’m not surprised at how much quicker it’s manifested with you.” And with that, my kwami rolled over and went back to sleep.

My eyes flicked to the phone on the dock across the room from me (which, yes, I could clearly see) and noted it was barely three. I snapped the lights off and leaned back into the pillow myself, but even as tired as I was, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Plagg had said.

It was not a secret that I tended to extend my time as Chat as much as I could. Plagg had made the unfortunate pronouncement early on that I could remain transformed indefinitely so long as I didn’t use my secret power; when not called to duty against Hawkmoth, I had taken him quite literally, and found myself creating the smallest excuse to drop in on my girlfriend as Chat, or to enjoy the simple joy of roaming the city as only a human-sized feline could.

Ladybug had initially been displeased with my, shall we say, overly broad interpretation of our abilities; but over time (and with my frequent appearances on her balcony as Chat), I’d worn her down enough that she’d simply accepted it as the normal state of affairs. Privately, though, I was pretty sure that she preferred me in black leather.

Some part of me knew that the transformation to Chat Noir was happening to me on a physical level; I just had not stopped to think about what lasting effects it could have on me over the long run. I wasn’t especially _worried_ about it – well, actually, maybe I was. And I thought I knew exactly who I could talk to about it.

As part of our continuing effort to make Adrien and Marinette a more public couple in our classmate’s eyes, we tended to share a table for two in the corner of the library during our afternoon study hall. It also was an ideal place to escape unnoticed, allowing us to transform on the (frequent) occasions Chat and Ladybug were called to action during the school day. That day, fortunately, had not required our assistance, so we found ourselves in our quiet corner, separated by several empty tables from the rest of our class and well out of (non-enhanced) earshot.

Marinette was toiling over some math problems on her tablet, and I was halfheartedly re-reading _The Tempest_ for English Lit. After ensuring no one was bearing down on us, I carefully tapped her with a fingertip – belatedly realizing I’d expected the claw tip to be there. “Milady?” I whispered.

Her eyes flicked to mine. I didn’t normally call her that while we were in civilian form, so her eyes immediately filled with concern. “What’s wrong, kitty?”

I leaned closer. “This may sound like an odd question,” I started. “But… have you noticed… any changes?”

Marinette’s face flushed a deep crimson. “Uh… look, Adrien, I’m not sure—”

If I’d had my feline ears, they would have shot up when I realized what she _thought_ I was referring to. “No! Not, uh, that,” I said hastily. “I mean, are you finding you have… uh…” I looked over her to re-confirm no one was eavesdropping. “Well, _bug_ enhancements to your senses? When not transformed?”

The crimson on her face didn’t abate, but she nodded a bit. “Yeah,” she said. “You’re seeing feline traits?”

“Yes,” I said, unsure how much I should admit to. “What, specifically?”

This time, Marinette looked over her shoulder, then leaned even closer toward me. “Flowers,” she said succinctly. “I can smell them in amazingly vibrant detail when I’m Ladybug; quite a bit of that remains when I’m… me… almost like it’s a fuzzy version of my Ladybug ability.”

I nodded, thinking about my not-quite-perfect night vision. “Scents in general for me,” I said. “I can pick up the notes of things now, specific notes, much like I could as Chat. Not as refined, but it’s getting better each day.” I flicked my eyes again over her shoulder. “My vision and hearing are similarly better, though not exactly Chat-purrfect.”

Marinette grimaced. “Clearly the puns moved over.”

“That’s all Adrien,” I laughed, drawing some stares from the room. I choked it back. “You?”

“No puns,” she laughed quietly, “but my eyesight is a bit more refined. I can see farther, and wider, if that’s even possible. But, sadly, no night vision like you. Hearing is about the same,” she shrugged. “Guess that’s not a bug thing.”

“Sorry,” I said. “How about strength?”

“Somewhat,” she nodded. “I can lift heavier bags of flour now. Papa thinks I’m hitting the gym at school. You?”

I smiled. “Yeah, stronger. I can run farther, faster, than I could before. Fence longer.” I sat back a bit. “I asked Plagg last night; he said it’s normal, and happens regularly to holders.” I paused, wondering if I should add the rest of what he’d said.

Marinette caught the pause. “You’re expressing them faster than normal, aren’t you?”

It was my turn to flush. “Uh… yeah…” I admitted, running my hand to the back of my neck.

“Well,” she said good naturedly, “I _did_ warn you about staying transformed, now didn’t I?”

“Meowybe you should have been more specific,” I said, leaning over even further and rubbing my head against her arm. I skipped the faux purr. For the moment.

“Kitty!” she hissed, throwing a panicked look over her shoulder as she tried to fend me off. My antics were drawing some unwanted attention so I returned to my side of the table.

Looking down at the text glowing on my tablet, I quietly continued. “What worried me more was that I’m starting to _feel_ my feline ears when they’re not there.” I flicked my worried eyes toward her. “I thought something was irritating them last night – it felt real enough, it woke me up.”

Her gaze caught mine. “That’s nothing,” she said equally as quietly. “I’m having a hard time focusing any time I’m in the same space as tulips.”

That brought me up short. “Tulips? Specifically?”

The flush deepened. “Yeah.” She looked at me a bit more closely. “But I don’t have any ‘extras’ like you, though,” she added.

“Extras?”

“You know. The ears. The tail.”

“Ah,” I said.

“I’ve not had the same phantom appendage feeling.”

I flushed a bit, remembering how real the tickle on a feline ear had felt. “That is the part that has me worried,” I said. “I can live with the other enhancements – in fact, most of them are pretty cool, when you get right down to it. But I bolted awake last night thinking something was crawling around an ear. An ear that wasn’t there.”

The concern was showing on her face. “Has that feeling happened before?”

“No, that was the first time.” I knew I looked worried. “What do you think?”

She tapped her stylus against her chin. “I dunno. We could talk to Master Fu, but you’d have to explain to him why you’ve been transformed so much,” she said, a tiny glint to her eye.

I flushed again. “That might not be my first choice.”

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “maybe the first thing is for you to quit cold turkey for a bit.” She looked at me. “Just for a bit. A week, maybe. Then we can see if you still ‘feel’ your ears or tail, even when not transformed.”

“Quit?” I asked, eyes widening. “Being Chat?”

“No, silly,” she said. “I still need you when Hawkmoth appears. Just in between. Take a week off from unauthorized prowling around Paris.”

My eyes widened further. “But, Mari,” I said quietly, “that means I won’t be able to visit. After hours.” Panicking slightly at the thought of possibly losing my freedom, I offered my own suggestion. “Maybe – maybe _you_ should try staying transformed longer, and see if---"

“No, kitty,” she said. “Besides, I don’t have those special features like you do. And it’s only a week.”

I slouched back in my chair, dejected. “It’ll be longer for some of us,” I said morosely.

“Maybe not,” she said brightly. “I might have a plan for that.”

“Of course you do,” I said, then banged my head on the table, slowly.

“That’s not it,” she said, gently running a hand through the back of my hair. “Look, come over tonight and I run through it with you once I’ve firmed it up a bit.” She pulled my face up of the Formica. “Think of it as a science experiment.”

“Lovely,” I mewled.

“And Chat?”

My green eyes snapped to hers, for she rarely called me by that name as a civilian.

“If you think you’re getting out of visiting each night, you’ve got another think coming.”


	34. The Weekest Link

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat’s concern about seeing more feline attributes while not transformed has led him to agree to an uncomfortable week of trying to avoid transforming unless called to action. It’s uncharted territory for Adrien, but fortunately Ladybug is there to help._

Well after I was supposedly sound asleep, I landed on my favorite chimney flue and found Marinette waiting for me. Unusually, the Bakery’s rooftop patio was shrouded in darkness, save for the faint light filtering up through the skylight. “Purrincess,” I said as I quickly dropped down to my usual spot on the railing. “A bit cloak and dagger this evening,” I added, alluding to the fact that I was using my night vision to place her in the space.

I was rewarded with a chuckle and a hug that pulled me off the railing. “It’s late and I don’t want to attract any additional attention,” she said as she kissed me. 

“Okay,” I said. “So, what’s your plan?”

“Three-fold,” Marinette said. “First, my overall mission is to make sure you’re not alone for the next week. If you have someone around, you’re less likely to want to transform in order to escape to find some company.”

“Uh…” I started, but Marinette was moving into high gear.

“I’ve already spoken with Nino, and loaned him his Miraculous. He’s going to attempt to sneak over to the mansion tonight.” 

“Princess—”

“Second, Ladybug will visit you at the mansion a few times over the next week, you just have to tell… her… what days would be best.”

My eyes must have gone wide enough that she could see the change in the quasi-florescent glow. “Milady… are you sure that’s wise?”

“Absolutely, as long as we’re careful,” she said.

“All right,” I nodded, “though I remind you that you’re fulfilling a---”

“Finally,” Marinette said, wisely cutting off my train of thought, “we’re having a slumber weekend here at the Bakery, starting Friday evening and running to Sunday. You, me, Nino and Alya.” 

“That sounds like fun,” I said, “but I hate to say it – Father isn’t keen on me being out of the mansion longer than necessary.”

“Our backup plan is to have you host us at the mansion,” she said, “but either way, you need to plant the seed, if not with your father, at least with his assistant.”

I nodded; in the past, I’d been able to prevail upon Nathalie to allow Adrien to do things Father would normally not have approved of. “You have given this a lot of thought.”

Despite the darkness, I could see the twinkle in her eyes. “Don’t I always?” she asked, stealing a quick kiss. “Now you’d better be off. He might be slower than you, but Carapace has a bit of a head start.”

“Of course, Milady,” I said, smiling. “Then I’ll see Ladybug on Thursday.”

“It’s a date,” she said as I coiled to vault into the night. “But remember – once you get back to your room, _no transformations_.” She paused. “Got it, kitty?”

“Yes, Milady,” I said, recognizing the Ladybug command tone. It came out perhaps a bit desultory, causing Marinette to snag my arm before I could leap away.

“Chat, this isn’t permanent. We’re just collecting some data, remember?”

I frowned. “The science experiment angle. Got it,” I said. “See you tomorrow,” I added as I double-barrel-rolled off her rooftop.

Admittedly, I wasn’t entirely sold on the overall concept, but I trusted Marinette. I also knew it would be a huge challenge to resist donning the Chat mask unnecessarily over the next few days; having friends close at hand would definitely help there, and I felt myself smile as I closed in on the mansion only to see the bulk that was one of them waiting for me on the roof.

I dropped into a cat-crouch on the tile next to Carapace. “Hey,” I said, fist pumping my best friend. “You’re up to speed, then?”

“Yeah.” Cap looked as concerned as Marinette. “I also had no idea we could be affected, either.”

“In fairness, I’m Chat far more than you’re Carapace,” I reminded him. 

“True. Now, I hear there’s a new level on Ultimate Mech...”

Cap followed me into my room, and after we both dropped our transformations, played through three levels of our favorite video game before the early rays of morning peeked through my windows. Stifling a yawn, Nino apologized. “I don’t normally sneak away from my room,” he started. “Any pointers?” he asked as he called for his transformation to become Carapace once more.

“Don’t get caught,” I deadpanned as I helped Carapace up to the window. It would have been easier with my Chat super-strength.

“Not helpful,” he laughed as he hurled himself into the morning.

I managed to get through the entire day at school and into the early afternoon without incident – or an akuma that would allow me to be Chat within the terms of my agreement with Marinette. By the time I returned to my bedroom, I was beginning to feel like I was in some sort of rehab program for recovering superheroes and said as much to my kwami.

Plagg started to reply only for both of us to turn at the gentle tapping on my window. Ladybug had apparently rappelled from the roof and was hanging from her yo-yo, wearing a broad smile. I hustled over to my couch where the remote for the window was resting and popped the portal open for her; in a graceful movement she swung through and landed easily just beside me.

“Milady,” I gushed.

Arching an eyebrow, she leaned in for a kiss. “It’s been, what, an hour since I saw you?”

“Longest hour of my life,” I smiled, then cocked my head slightly. “You might want to hide in the bathroom. Dinner is on the way.”

She nodded and made a dash for the bathroom, managing to slide the door shut just before Chef popped into my room with the food service trolley. He nodded at me as he wheeled it to my couch, where I continued to stand innocently.

Raising an eyebrow, Chef said: “Are you certain, Master Adrien, you want _two_ servings? Your father was pretty adamant--”

“Yeah,” I said, gently hustling him toward the bedroom door. “Fencing practice left me with quite the appetite.”

“Of course,” he said, not convinced.

As I closed the door on him, I heard the whisper of my partner as she danced across to the food, and turned toward her with a smile. “Someone is hungry,” I accused when I saw she’d already lifted the silver cover over the entrées.

Ladybug rolled her masked eyes at me. “Says the Chat who eats me out of Bakery and home.”

“Sorry,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck as I approached her. I was trying _very_ hard to keep it together, for having Ladybug... in my room... well, let’s just say it was all I had ever wished for. And the flame on my face had to have been telegraphing it to my partner.

Ladybug sensed my anxiety and carefully guided me through the evening. We munched on the dinner I’d ordered, played some XBox, and even got a little homework done together, though it was pretty hard to focus on Physics when your girlfriend wears a cute polka-dotted mask. In a rare moment of introspection, I wondered if Chat had been having the same effect on Marinette all this time, and found myself smiling a very feline smile.

Close to midnight, Ladybug sadly bid me adieu. I managed to delay her slightly by snagging her before she leapt to the window; as I kissed her, she pulled back and got a crafty smile. “Let me try something?” she asked.

I nodded, and she reached up and scratched just behind where my feline ear should have been.

My eyes flew wide and then scrunched shut, and for a moment, I could have sworn she was working her magic as she did when I was transformed. As quickly as she had started, she stopped, and I cracked open an eye accusatorially. “Totally not fair,” I mewled.

“At least you didn’t start purring,” she laughed. “But it does tell us that two days isn’t enough.”

I wasn’t entirely sure that I hadn’t, but I let it go. “Nathalie managed to grant me a weekend pass,” I said, changing the subject. “I’ll swing over to the Bakery after school—”

“Your driver will drop you off?” she corrected.

“Uh, yeah,” I said.

“Good,” she smiled and kissed me one last time. “Night, Chaton,” she said.

Sleepovers had been pretty rare for me, so I bubbled with excitement the following day at school. Furtunately it sailed by, and as the last bell was ringing I was already out the door with my bag and halfway toward the locker rooms to transform for my trip to the Bakery. Marinette, however, was one step ahead of me and had planted herself at the bottom of the staircase. “Adrien,” she said.

“Hey Princess,” I replied, slightly flushing that she’d caught me. “Need a lift?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” she said as she ran her arm through mine and we walked to my waiting sedan. 

It was a short drive, naturally, and Alya was waiting for us at the entrance to the bakery. “Nino had to duck home to pick up some extra tunes for tonight,” she explained as we entered. “He assured me he won’t miss dinner.”

“Good,” Marinette laughed. 

I grabbed my overnight bag and followed Marinette past her parents in the busy Bakery and up to the residence; Nino and I would be sharing the guest room on the floor just below Marinette’s room, where Alya would be staying with her. Marinette paused at the doorway while Alya continued up with her bags. “Do we _have_ to go the whole week?” I asked quietly, knowing I was borderline mewling.

“That depends,” Marinette said. “What have you learned so far?”

_That I don’t like not being Chat Noir_, I thought. “Aside from the day I told you about the phantom ears, nothing’s happened since.” I thought a bit longer. “If I had to guess, I was really tired that night; maybe it’s easier for me to control the feline ‘extensions’ when I’m fully rested.”

She nodded; apparently, I had passed some sort of test. “Good. I was thinking something along the same lines. Let’s see how the weekend goes.”

Marinette’s mother served us an amazing home-cooked meal, and I tried not to moan too loudly at the plate of passionfruit macaroons she placed in front of me for the dessert finale. My eyes snapped to Marinette, who smiled and nodded. I fell upon the unsuspecting prey and tried hard not to leave any survivors.

Nino managed to miss dinner but arrived with his nearly complete DJ kit; we trundled all of it to the roof and chilled out under the stars with hot chocolate and cool toons from my best friend. Despite not having fought any akumas all week, I was more tired than I thought and nodded off with my back against the brick wall and Marinette’s head leaning on my arm.

I awoke with a start to find Marinette completely snuggled into me against the night chill; Nino and Alya had moved to the far corner themselves and appeared to be watching a movie on her phone beneath a blanket. The image made me smile, for those two were as purrfect for each other as my own match. 

Marinette stirred slightly and I belatedly realized she was shivering; without really thinking about it, I called for my transformation knowing I’d be able to keep her a bit warmer with the costume. Once the green glow faded, I wrapped a black-cladded arm around my girlfriend and pulled her in a bit closer; she sighed a bit at the movement and then, somehow, managed to snuggle even closer into my costumed chest, the tip of one pigtail nicking my bell in the process and issuing a melodic tinkle into the night.

I ran my free paw over my head, feeling the feline ears that I knew were now solidly in place, and then looked out across the night, my masked green eyes taking in the dancing lights along the Seine. I closed them again and deeply inhaled the full scent portfolio of Marinette as only Chat could, appreciating the distinctiveness that reflected how unique she was. I knew I was breaking the rules we’d established for our little test, but in truth, I was reasonably certain that I’d always have the ears and tail sensation along with my other feline “enhancements” the Cat Miraculous brought to the table. Now that I better understood what was happening, I accepted that as long I was able to be Chat, they would be part of the gig.

And if it meant being able to spend quality time with Marinette? I’d suffer happily.

Marinette stirred again; she seemed to sense something, though, and cracked an eye open. “Chat…?” she whispered.

“Apparently,” I smiled.

She opened the other eye immediately and sat a bit away from me. “When did you--?”

“You were shivering,” I shrugged. “I didn’t want to move you, so this was easier.”

Marinette smiled. “Any excuse,” she said softly as she reached up to run that finger of hers along my mask.

“Yes,” I said honestly. “But it’s fine,” I added and then frowned. “This doesn’t mean you want to re-start the week, though, does it? I’m not sure—”

She put a finger on my lips. “I think we know what we need to know,” she replied. “But seriously, you probably need to cut back just a tiny bit. Think of poor Plagg.”

I arched a masked eyebrow. “Half the time he’s the one _encouraging_ me,” I pointed out.

“Ah,” Marinette said. “Well,” she continued. “You’ve been warned. It’s not my fault if whiskers appear on that nice face of yours…”

My eyes must have boggled. “Wha--?!”

Smiling wickedly, Marinette slid her head back onto my chest. “Just sayn’,” she chuckled softly.

Sighing as I leaned my head against the brick, I ran a claw through her hair and hoped _that_ would never happen. But if it did… I decided it would still be worth it for moments like this.


	35. Drawn to Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Marinette is busy working on a design that has her full attention. She has also captured Chat’s as well, and that seems to be leading them into danger – whether they know it or not._

I may have mentioned a little earlier that once we’d hit our stride as the Chat-and-Marinette couple, I’d become a frequent visitor at the Bakery in my heroic alter-ego. Sabine and Tom had welcomed me as if it were completely ordinary that any of Marinette’s friends (let alone her boyfriend) would show up at all hours dressed in black leather, domino mask, feline ears and a matching tail. I had to admit, I loved them all the more for the way it made me feel like I was just, quite simply, family to them.

As much as I enjoyed hanging out with Marinette, quite a few of my visits were purpose driven. Usually we were collaborating on a school project (though I was careful not to bring anything that might tip my hand and identify my civilian alter-ego to her parents), but more often than not, we were just doing mundane homework in the company of our significant other.

Even if one of us was fully costumed.

On nights such as this particular one, I would generally transform after dinner at the mansion and escape with my school materials slung across my back, stashing them in a hidden cubbyhole on our rendezvous rooftop while I waited for Ladybug to appear for patrol. If patrol went uneventfully, which was never a given, I’d double back to retrieve my bookbag and then drop in on Marinette at the Bakery for a few hours of feline downtime. I’d become quite adept at burning the candle at both ends, though it might have helped having ready access to Tom’s special coffee brew.

Patrol had been quiet that evening, with only poor Monsieur Ramier and his seeming obsession over saving the rats of Paris. Much like his earlier concern for the pigeons of our fair city, we’d come to expect him to be akumatized a few times each month, and it never took more than a handful of minutes to restore him to his normal self. In fact, we’d gotten _so_ good at helping him, we hardly ever had to use our super-powers anymore to defeat him.

I was laying on my stomach, boots in the air, tapping my stylus on the side of my tablet. Marinette had put out the black blanket the she’d embroidered with my cat paw logo fringe for me, and she was sitting in her chaise, sketchbook open. Her tablet had been set aside and as I tried to puzzle out the final part of the physics problem I was working through, I realized she’d never actually picked up her tablet when we’d returned from our rounds of Paris.

Putting down my stylus, I gazed at her beautiful face and watched as she concentrated on the design that she was working through. While one hand was gripping the sketchbook, the other had a standard charcoal pencil and was _shushing_ across the page in deliberate fashion. I was entranced by the way her eyes darted from spot to spot on the page, her hand frantically keeping pace with her thoughts; every now and again, she’d hold her tongue just so at the side of her mouth as she committed a particular embellishment to posterity.

My feline ears easily picked up the strength and passion of the strokes, and I could tell from her elevated heartrate that she was most definitely in the zone. I also knew that for purrposes of self-preservation not to interrupt her until she put the charcoal down. Tonight’s fugue seemed especially inspired, though, and as the evening wore on and, inevitably grew later, I worried I might have to depart without getting a goodnight kiss.

Midnight came and went, and still she furiously went at whatever she was drawing. I quietly put away my books and tablet, then folded myself into a cat-ball, eyes firmly pointed in her direction. Wisely, I set the baton for a two o’clock wake-up call in case I nodded off, which is exactly what I did. The subtle yet exotic swishing of the charcoal lulled me into a state of somnambulance; when I awoke with a start to the insistent buzzing of the baton, I found my princess had similarly made way for the sandman.

Stretching quietly, I moved to her side at the chair and carefully whisked my blanked over her, after first removing the sketchbook from her hand and placing it on her side table. The charcoal she’d been using had slipped from her relaxed hand, and I had to squeeze below the chaise to retrieve it from where it had rolled. It wasn’t an especially cold night for early autumn, but I carefully tucked the blanket in and around her just to ensure she stayed toasty.

As I slipped my backpack over a shoulder, my masked eyes fell upon the sketchbook. Being a cat meant I had all of the insatiable curiosity that implied, and I wanted in the worst possible way to take a peek at what Marinette had been working on. Even though she was sound asleep, and even though I had the stealth ability of black cat, I knew it wouldn’t be prudent to even take a stray sniff of the notebook. Somehow, she would know I had peeked, and there would be a cost to the activity I did not want to pay.

Instead, I leaned down and gently kissed her forehead, and quietly promised to return the following evening. She stirred, and for a moment I thought she would awaken; I waited, masked eyes watching her angelic face as she sighed gently and rolled slightly to her side. Smiling, I skulked quietly to the railing and leapt over with little more than a rubber squeak, waiting to helicopter until I was far enough away that it wouldn’t waken my princess.

After getting a few hours rest, I caught up with a very tired looking Marinette after first period. “Barely made the bell, Mari,” I said quietly as we packed up our bags to change rooms. “One might think you were out all night carousing with a cat.”

Her eyes shot to mine and then darted around the classroom to see if anyone had heard me, then relaxed a bit; even Alya was out of earshot for once. “I overslept again,” she smiled tiredly. “What time did you leave?”

“A little after two.” I fell into step beside her as she came down the classroom steps and we headed toward the door. “Lunch plans?”

“Yeah,” she frowned, “I’m supposed to have lunch with Alya but I’d like to get out of it if I can. I’m nearly done with the sketch I was working on last night.”

“Gotcha covered,” I smiled as I pushed through the door and trotted away from her.

“CH—Adrien!” I heard her call after me, but I was already rounding the bottom of the steps to catch up to our friend. 

I found Alya chatting with Nino outside the science lab. “Hey,” I said slyly, “want some new content for the blog?”

Her brown hair whipped around behind her as she locked her eyes on mine. “When and where?” she asked, immediately understanding my context.

“The park. By the fountain? A little after noon.” I winked. “I should grab something to eat first.”

“I’m supposed to have lunch with Marinette,” she said, “but she’ll understand. Don’t be late,” she added as we all continued onward toward our next period.

We broke for lunch on time, and I grabbed Marinette to let her know I’d cleared her calendar. I narrowly avoided the bop on the head for my troubles, after which she extracted a promise that I not be too over the top. “And I’m cancelling patrol tonight,” she whispered quietly. “Come straight to the Bakery after dinner.”

I smiled and, nearly forgetting myself, tried to snag a kiss before she swatted at me again. “Kitty,” she smiled. “People will talk.”

“Isn’t that the point?” I asked. “Gotta scat!” I added as I dashed from the room.

A few minutes later, I landed on one of the rooftops overlooking the park as Chat Noir. Holding my baton in one paw, I gripped the edge of the wrought iron decoration I’d perched on with the other as I scanned for Alya. As I expected, a small crowd had gathered around the fountain, centering on Alya; I’d seen her post from that morning hinting that a superhero might be in the park at noon and knew it would gather some attention.

Deciding to make an entrance, I leapt up into the blue sky and did a classic double barrel role into a pike-and-tumble, landing in my classic crouch just beside a smiling Alya. “Hello,” I said with a smile. “I saw the crowd and thought I’d make sure everything was okay.”

Already holding her phone out and snapping photos, Alya rolled her eyes. “Of course you did, Chat,” she laughed.

I partially extended my baton and placed it behind my neck, then casually draped my paws over the ends. Consciously or not, I found myself posing much as I would on a catwalk for a crowd; in this case, though, I spent a rather enjoyable hour taking selfies, signing autographs and just generally talking with Parisians. Alya documented the whole thing and was wearing a self-satisfied smile as it wound down. 

“That will get me a _ton_ of traffic,” she said as she slipped her phone back into her jeans. “Thanks.”

“My pawleasure,” I smiled back at her as I pulled my baton back out and started into the sky. “_Cat_ch you later,” I tossed back at her, smiling widely as she groaned.

Safely back at my desk with a few minutes to spare before the bell, I caught Alya’s eye as she entered the classroom and winked at her, only to notice that she was wearing a worried expression. “What’s wrong?” I asked as she made a direct line to my seat.

“Have you talked to Marinette?”

“Not since before lunch,” I said as I pulled out my civilian phone. “I don’t have any messages.” I looked up and saw concern etched over my friend’s face. “I’ll call—"

“I already tried,” Alya said. “It’s going straight to voicemail.”

That set alarms off. Marinette was never far from her phone, and rarely didn’t answer; it was just who she was. And the times she didn’t answer? She was Ladybug, out saving the world.

“I’ve gotta go,” I said urgently as I hurriedly stuffed all of my books back into the bag I’d just taken them out of. 

Alya leaned closer, eyes widening. “Adrien – what are you doing?”

Looking around to ensure we weren’t being overheard, I whispered: “I’m feline uneasy about this. I’ve got to find her and set my mind at ease.” Glancing to the front I could see our teacher hadn’t arrived yet; I turned back to Alya as I slid my bag over my shoulder. “Cover for me?” I asked quietly.

“You’ve got it,” she said, then placed a hand on my arm. “It may be nothing,” she said.

Arching an eyebrow, I replied: “Given who we are, I highly doubt it,” I said. “I’ll ping you when I find her.”

“Or if you need help,” she added.

“I’m not the one who can—”

“I can still help as a civilian,” she reminded me.

“Right,” I smiled. And then I was out the door and down to the men’s locker room, hiding in plain sight as students hurried to class. Locking myself in a stall, I impatiently waited for the space to clear before calling on Plagg and transforming into Chat Noir. The green glow was still an echo in my vision when I leapt out of the stall and across to the open window, grabbing the sill to launch myself toward the roof. I scampered toward the edge and skidded to a rubbery stop as I slid the baton open to phone mode.

Marinette still didn’t answer; covering all of my bases, I clicked over to GPS mode and confirmed that she wasn’t running around as Ladybug without me. _Now_ I was starting to get worried.

There were only a few places in the city that Marinette would decamp to for sketching, and knowing she’d likely not return to the Bakery over lunch (since she was there each evening anyway) eliminated that option immediately. I hurled myself off into the sunshine and headed for favorite spot number two, a little nook at Trocadero facing the Eiffel Tower that she claimed had the right kind of light at noontime.

Unsure what to expect, I dropped down to the granite in my pounce-crouch, baton at the ready. In short order, my feline sense of smell picked up faint traces of Marinette, and I followed the trail to her usual spot. 

Trying not to panic, I found her bag of art supplies upended, with pencils and ink scattered all over the granite; the bag itself was flapping in the gentle breeze where it had come to rest on the edge of the wall above me. Wads of paper were here and there – somewhat normal when she was working – but the sketchbook itself was missing.

As was Marinette.

_This is not good_, I thought. _But I don’t see signs of an akuma? Clearly, though, someone has taken her._

I slowly circled the space, collecting the stray supplies while scanning every square meter for clues. It wasn’t until I leapt up to grab her bag from edge of the wall that one fell into a paw, literally.

Having jostled the bag slightly, her phone fell out of an outside pocket, and I grabbed it in midair before it crashed to the ground. Dropping the bag, I flipped the phone over and saw it was unlocked… and recording audio.

_Good thinking, Marinette._

I quickly tapped it with a claw tip and stopped the recording, then rewound it to the beginning.

_“Nathaniel,” _I heard Marinette say._ “I don’t know what—”_

_“I’m not Nathaniel!” _roared the voice of my classmate._ “I am Evilstrator. And I’ve had it with you ignoring me for that… cat!”_

_“Nathaniel---”_

_“I said my name was Evilstrator!”_

_“Right, well, Evilstrator, I’m actually dating that cat. You know that; you’ve seen us!”_

_“What does he offer that I can’t give you? I can draw you my love! Can he do that?”_

_“I’m sorry, Nathaniel. My heart is already spoken for. I’m sure there’s someone for—”_

_“Get away from that wall!”_

_“Hey!” _I heard sounds of a scuffle and the items as they fell out of her bag. _“Let me go!”_

_“He can’t love you like I can. I’m taking you away from here.”_

_“Take me? Where?”_

There was a rather evil laugh that made my fur crawl as Nathanial replied: _“Some place he’ll be drawn to. A place where I can take care of him once and for all, so we can be together. Forever.”_

_“Wait---!”_

There was another scuffle, and I could hear the bag as it was tossed into the air; concentrating intensely, I thought I could hear Marinette yelling something as she was presumably carried off, but replaying that final section on the highest volume was too quiet to hear even with my superior feline abilities.

Setting her bag into a safe nook, I slid her phone into my costume pocket and stood in the plaza for a moment, masked eyes closed. Going after her was a forgone conclusion, as was the notion that Evilstrator would be expecting me and have planned accordingly. But my options were seriously limited. 

Or were they?

I pulled Marinette’s phone back out, and scrolled through her contacts; to my surprise, she had an entry that said, simply, _Turtle_. Taking a chance, I dialed the number.

Master Fu’s face appeared on the small screen. “Chat Noir,” he said simply. “I will assume it’s serious if you are contacting me with Marinette’s phone.”

“I really should add you to my baton,” I laughed, despite the situation. “Marinette has been taken, I think by an akumatized Nathaniel. He seems to be Evilstrator again.”

“Indeed. Hawkmoth appears to be repeating himself.” He paused. “You need reinforcements,” he stated.

“Yes.” I took an exploratory sniff. “I think I have her scent trail, but it’s fading fast. Can you do the honors?”

“Who do you want?”

“Rena and Carapace, please.”

“I’ll have them contact you once they are transformed.” He paused again. “Be careful, Chat. Nathaniel is likely to be stronger this time around.”

“I’m a bit wiser myself, Master,” I replied, “but I will be more prudent.”

“Good,” he nodded before ending the call.

Sliding the phone back into my costume pocket, I triangulated the scent trail once again.

_I’m coming, Princess,_ I said to the wind as I leapt up into the sky. _And heavens help him for taking you._


	36. Fairytale Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s probably not best to get between Chat and his girlfriend – even if you are Hawkmoth and think you can use love as a pressure point for our superhero._

Master Fu made short work of getting the Miraculous to Rena and Carapace; it helped that Nino and Alya were practically joined at the hip these days, so finding one meant the other was near at hand. The duo met up with me on the rooftop of Hotel Jardin des Plantes; while I would have actually preferred a perch inside the park – say, atop the Museum National d’Histoire Naturelle – the scent trail I’d been following had been subsumed beneath the overwhelming floral notes from the garden proper. It wasn’t much of a stretch to realize Evilstrator had picked this spot for that reason; I counted it as a plus in my ledger that I had thought of it myself.

I was crouched on the slanted tile, the early afternoon sunshine casting a slight feline shadow in front of me. Cap (who was getting much better at landings) dropped into a three-point stance next to me, and Rena stood just behind him, hand on his shell. “Where is she?” Rena asked.

“Trail ended a few meters in that direction,” I said, using a claw to point toward the main entrance to the park. “I can’t detect her specific scent any longer,” I added, frowning. “There are too many blossoming beauties in the garden at the moment.”

“Clever,” Carapace said. “Anyone else think he’s getting tips this time around?”

“That’s a given,” I said, my frown deepening and my ears flattening in anger. “She has always been worried what could happen if Hawkmoth ever found who the people we love were. I should have followed her Superhero Golden Rule and---ow!” I exclaimed.

Swiftly turning to Rena and rubbing between my feline ears, I arched a masked eyebrow as she tapped her flute in her own paw. “What was _that_ for?” I mewled, for she’d managed to nail me with her flute where Ladybug’s yo-yo normally hit.

“_That_ is to stop the pity party,” Rena laughed. “Can you honestly say you would have preferred your life before you fell for Marinette?”

“That’s not what—”

She bopped me again.

“No,” I quickly answered, grimacing slightly as I rubbed again with a paw.

“Then enough already. Let’s go get her. In case you’d forgotten, we have that midterm exam in sixth period that I think we’d all like to take. Today.”

The color drained from my face. “I _had_ forgotten,” I replied, then smiled ruefully. “We must be the only superheroes in the universe that fight villains while trying to keep our GPAs intact.”

Cap laughed. “I hear Spider-Man is actually a student, too,” he offered.

“Well,” I said as I pulled my baton out, “if we ever run into him, we can swap tips on how to keep up with our schoolwork while saving the world.”

“You think we can?” Rena asked excitedly. “I’d love to get his autograph for my collection.”

I smiled wider. “Who knows. But if I ever have a photo shoot in New York, I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Rena said. “So, Chat, what’s the plan?”

Tapping my baton in my paw, I pondered for a moment. “Evilstrator is capable of creating whatever environment he desires – or affecting the environment he’s currently in.” My masked eyes looked to Cap and then Rena. “He drew a box around me that trapped Marinette and I on a sinking ship; we narrowly got out of that one. Later, he literally erased the floor I was standing on.”

Rena’s eyes popped wider. “That’s quite a trick.”

“And a dangerous one,” I nodded. “As much as I want to storm the garden and lay waste to everything, I’m pretty sure we’re going to need to be more tactical about this.”

“LB has rubbed off on you,” Cap said.

“That she has,” I agreed. “I did a quick circuit of the park before the two of you arrived, and I found this in the middle of the garden’s esplanade.” Popping open the baton, I showed them the photo I’d snapped.

Carapace whistled. “That is straight out of a storybook,” he said.

“Or a movie,” Rena corrected. “Isn’t that Sleeping Beauty Castle?”

“It is,” I said. “Which troubles me a bit. You might remember there was a dragon in that story.”

“A green-fire-breathing one,” Carapace whistled again. “We’re really going to be rescuing a Princess, aren’t we?”

“Appears so,” I smiled. “Fortunately, I know someone who can protect us as we get close to the castle.” I swapped modes on the phone and brought up the street maps. “I’m making some key assumptions – please feel free to object to them – but here they are. I believe Marinette is in the Castle, and likely in the tallest spire if he keeps to the true fairy tale trope. I also presume he expects me to rush straight in, alone; I _think_ I can use that to distract him while the two of you take up positions here and here,” I said, pointing a claw tip to two locations on the map.

“The longer he goes without seeing you, though, the less likely he’s gonna buy that,” Rena observed.

“True.” I tapped a claw on the baton. “Which made me think of an alternate plan that leans a bit more into my black cat toolkit.” I shifted the map slightly. “This is the nearest access point to the Parisian catacombs,” I smiled. 

“That’s---” Carapace started.

“Inside the castle, now, yes,” I smiled wider. “But it also seems just a bit too conveniently placed for me.”

Rena nodded. “But this one isn’t,” she said, pointing to another access point that appeared within the botanical forest that was off to one side of where the castle now stood.

“Exactly,” I smiled.

Rena looked at me with an appreciative smile. “You _are_ getting good at this.”

“I have a great mentor,” I said. “In addition to being my diversion though, I have one other part of this plan you two would be well suited for, if you are game…”

Not long after, we parted ways but not before each of us inserted our earwigs and ensured we had a good connection. Scampering down the sidewalk, I quickly located a nondescript wrought iron door set into the side of the wall; using my baton, I smashed the lock and quickly pulled the door open to slip into the damp darkness beyond. My night vision kicked in immediately, though in truth I wish it hadn’t. Using the baton in night mode, I was charting a path through some of the older crypts in Paris, and the stray skull or thigh bone I saw as I moved my way beneath the city was a little unsettling.

“Distraction commencing,” Carapace said. “And, wow, here comes the dragon.”

“Be careful, guys,” I said as I worked my way between two caskets that had fallen against each other and were blocking the passageway. “I’m about halfway there.”

“Dear Lord,” Rena said. “That is one big, ugly looking dragon,” she said. “It’s going after Cap!”

I stopped. “I’m coming back to you,” I said as I turned.

“No, we’ve got this,” Carapace said. “Believe it or not, I’m actually faster than this thing. And that’s saying something.”

“Ok…” I said, not really convinced, and returned to my original path.

My baton continued to lead me on, chirping to indicate how close I was getting to the exit. I snapped it closed when it became one constant chord singing out at the base of a winding stone staircase that rose up and out of the gloom. “I’m in position,” I said over the comm unit.

“Good,” I heard Cap say. From how hard he was breathing, I could tell he was running out of steam.

“Use Shell-ter if you need to,” I said as I started up the steps two at a time. 

“Not… yet…” Carapace said. “Rena’s almost ready…”

Wondering what the fox superhero had up her sleeve, I kept climbing, and found myself behind a locked wrought iron gate; just beyond were the tall trees of the botanical garden, and even further was the backend of Sleeping Beauty Castle. Extending the baton into a staff, I used it to lever one side of the gate off its hinges and then dashed to the edge of the forest, where I crouched in the shadows. “Guys?”

“Mirage has been cast,” Rena said. “Cap and I are moving to position gamma.”

“Roger,” I said, slipping into our shorthand. “Heading for the sky myself.”

I waited another moment and then sprang to the side of the castle, managing to vault over the impressive moat Evilstrator had dug. My claws sank into the soft stone, and I used them to vault higher, then higher, heading toward the tower that I was furrvently hoping housed Marinette. “Nearly at the bird cage,” I said over the comm. “In position?”

“Not… quite…” Rena said. “Ten seconds.”

I leapt up to the ledge just below the wide window, and hung by a paw, silently counting down. Then, with a bit of flourish, I flipped up and over the ledge, and sailed in through the window, landing a meter or so inside the tower room in my pounce-crouch. “I’m in,” I said.

The space looked like it was straight out of a cartoon; there was a brick fireplace, lit and dancing with green flames in one corner, with a spinning needle sitting beside it. A four-poster bed was opposite, and my masked eyes widened when I saw Marinette on top of it, hands folded and eyes closed. I fought back the impulse to dash over to the bed, knowing that was the response that had been counted on. 

Instead, I pressed myself back into the wall. “She’s not here,” I whispered, eyes scanning the space and landing on the hanging tapestry in the other corner. “But I think I know where I’ll find her.”

“How could you be wrong about that?” Carapace said. 

“He’s still playing on emotions,” I said as I carefully skulked across the floor. “He knows I call her Princess and treat her as such, and would logically expect her to be locked away just like a fairy tale maiden. But the fact he’s not here tells me your diversion is working.” I reached a paw up and tore down the tapestry, revealing another stairwell rising higher. “Gotcha,” I snarled as I started up the winding steps.

“Be careful, Chat,” Rena said. “We’re close if you need us.”

“I will,” I said as I rounded the final turn and started to pick up the familiar scent notes of Marinette. “And I will need you, so be ready. I may not be able to tell you _when_.”

“Okay,” Rena said. “And I’m on the clock, too.”

“No pressure,” I laughed quietly. 

I reached a paw to the handle of the door, but before I could turn it, it was erased in a few easy strokes. Knowing what this meant, I leapt through it and randomly sideways, hoping I’d chosen wisely. Rolling out into my crouch, I found Evilstrator in the center of the room, atop a pedestal, holding his iPad and glaring at me. Marinette was beside him on her own pedestal. I’d given up trying to comprehend how the space was five times the size it should rightly be.

My masked eyes locked with Marinette’s, which were slightly unfocused. Looking slightly down, I realized she was in more jeopardy than I realized; her pedestal was slowly sinking into a bubbling concoction of some sort. “This is… creative,” I said, my attention returning to Evilstrator. “But if you love her the way you say you do, I can’t believe you’d actually harm her.”

“I can, and I will – unless you give me your ring,” he said, and then he quickly sketched something on his pad.

Knowing that was probably bad, I decided moving was a good option. I leapt away from where I’d been crouched and hit the side of the pedestal he was on; a fraction of a moment later, the floor beneath where I’d been vanished and became the same bubbling stew. “You tried that trick before,” I laughed, trying to seem like I was doing anything other than melting down inside. Scrabbling around, I vaulted to the cylinder holding up Marinette and started to climb up. “Once burned, twice shy.”

“I did this one too,” he cackled.

Leaping sideways, I narrowly avoided the ball and chain he’d tried to draw on my ankle. Bouncing from side to side in the room, I managed to keep three more off of me before he started to swear. “Stay still for one second!” he cried out, furiously sketching.

“Not likely,” I laughed again. This time I used the baton to spring away and nabbed one of the massive wooden crossbeams in the ceiling with a paw. “Guys,” I said over the comm, “please tell me you’re where I think you are.”

“Nearly,” Carapace said. “Rena’s running short on time, too.”

“I know,” I said, flipping to another beam and then perched looking down. 

I closed my eyes for a moment to brace myself, for this was the trickiest part of my plan. “This seems pointless, Nathaniel,” I said calmly. “Let’s just call it a day, shall we? I don’t know about you---ooof!”

Pretty much as I expected, a cartoonishly oversized boxing glove nailed me from behind, knocking me off the wooden crossbeam and down toward the floor. Evilstrator had cleverly drawn in a small iron cell into which I tumbled; landing on the stone, I tried to leap out before he drew in the top, but smashed my feline head into it and fell back to the stone.

“Caged kitty,” I said over the comm. “_Please_ tell me you have the package.”

“Yes,” came a welcome new voice.

I smiled, my masked eyes turning back toward the Marinette looking down on me. “Good,” I said. Then, louder, “All right, you’ve got me. Now what?”

“You… don’t seem surprised?” Evilstrator said as he came down the staircase as he drew it. The M.C. Escherness of the effect wasn’t lost on me. I was doubly impressed that he could sketch and glare at me simultaneously.

“No,” I said, grinning. “Why? Should I be?”

“Yes,” he said. “I outfoxed you.”

“Not from where I’m sitting,” I said, continuing with the grin.

“I’m not the one in the cage,” he sneered as he finally stepped off the last step and moved to the bars that separated me from freedom.

“But what’s to stop me from Cataclysming my way out of this cage?”

“This,” he said, and in a flurry of motion, a significant part of the pedestal holding Marinette disappeared, lowering her very quickly toward the bubbling pit of doom. She shrieked as she plunged.

“Now that I have your attention,” Evilstrator said, “give me your ring.”

“All right, all right,” I said, waving my paws. “But I can’t reach my paw between these bars,” I said, frowning. 

“Got it covered,” Evilstrator said, and he quickly went to work on the tablet, creating a rectangular slot in the bars just wide enough for me to slip my arm through.

Moving forward and making like I was sliding the ring off my finger, I tried to look defeated. “Incidentally, what has Hawkmoth promised you?” I asked.

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I suppose since you won’t be around to see it, I’ll tell you.” He leaned closer to the cage. “I get to keep Marinette. Forever. I win. You lose.”

I shook my mane. “Furrever,” I sighed.

Nonplussed he started. “What?”

“The word you meant. ‘Furrever’ is what you should have said.”

“I’m not a cat!” he cried. “And I especially don’t do terrible puns.”

“Right on both counts,” I said. “You might want to stand back.”

“Sorry?” he said.

“Stand back?” I said again. “Otherwise….”

“What are you talking about?” he glared. “Look, just give me your ring so we can—”

In that instant, a series of crashes issued around us, and one by one, the lighting sources Evilstrator had carefully placed went out, plunging the space into darkness. Caught off-guard, Evilstrator turned and started to re-draw the sconces on his tablet, only to have a very particular yo-yo knock the stylus out of his hand… and directly into my waiting paw.

“Thank you, Milady,” I said. I could clearly see Ladybug with my night vision where she’d been hiding. “Your timing, as always, is impeccable.”

“I try,” she laughed. 

“Ladybug?” Evilstrator said. “Where did you come from?”

“I had some help,” she admitted. “But a girl has to have _some_ secrets.”

“Milady,” I said pointedly. “Marinette---”

“Is fine. Rena and Cap found the _actual_ Marinette in the throne room, all alone on a gilded throne.” She paused. “I thought the tiara was a nice touch, though.”

I arched a masked eyebrow. “Really,” I said, with nuance only she would pick up.

“Some might even say it was appropriate,” she added, her blue eyes dancing with merriment before looking up at the doppelgänger Evilstrator had drawn atop the pedestal. “These are pretty good,” she added, “but not the same as the real thing.”

“No!” Evilstrator yelled. 

In his fury, he made to reach through the opening, an I had to take a step back to avoid his grasping glove. For once, I was glad to be behind bars. “Cataclysm!” I cried before brushing my fingertips across the stylus, releasing the purple butterfly that Ladybug was somehow able to get even though it was inside the cage with me.

One Miraculous Ladybug later, a perplexed Nathaniel was standing in the middle of the park with Ladybug and I, completely unsure of _why_ he was there. Though once he saw the two of us fully, he put it together pretty fast.

“Oh my God,” he said, aghast. “I did it again. I’m so sorry, Chat, Ladybug; I know why this happened.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’d be the first one to admit how lucky I am to be dating Marinette. Unfortunately, Hawkmoth knew how he could twist that to make your angst useful to him.”

“Is she all right?” he asked, searching for her in the crowd. 

“Fine,” Ladybug said. “Carapace and Rena took her home.”

We parted ways with our schoolmate and took off into the Parisian sky; by unspoken agreement, we headed toward Trocadero so she could retrieve her things. We found the plaza fairly deserted in the midafternoon sun, so our arrival was unnoticed, allowing us a moment of privacy. I used it immediately to back her up against the wall and draw her into a massive embrace. “That was not fun,” I said after kissing her deeply. “Let’s not do that again.”

“I dunno,” she smiled as she detached herself from me to gather her bag. “I kind of like the idea of my Knight in Black riding to my rescue. Even if I did have to free myself.”

“Now wait just a minute!” I said in mock anger. “If I’d not distracted him—”

She pressed a gloved hand to my lips. “He would never have left the real Marinette alone long enough to allow me to transform. And I knew you’d figure out he’d drawn multiple versions of me to try and distract you.”

“That was pretty clever on his part,” I agreed. “In the end, I couldn’t decide if you’d be in the tower or in the throne room. I guessed wrong.”

“But you sent Rena and Cap to the other possibility,” she reminded me. “You covered your bases. I am very proud of you, kitty.”

I smiled. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

“Yes,” she agreed before frowning. “Now we need to step on it to get back in time for that midterm.”

My masked eyes danced with the merriment I felt. “Last Miraculous Holder to Dupont has to make passionfruit macaroons,” I said before vaulting into the sky.

“Hey!” Ladybug cried out behind me. “You know I can’t go as fast with a backpack!”

“I do,” I laughed as I helicoptered away from her.


	37. Sketches with Sprinkles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Considering how intense the day has been for Chat and Marinette, let’s give them a nice, quiet evening together in the City of Love._

Somewhat ironically, Marinette still needed to complete the design she’d been working on when Nathaniel had interrupted her plans. Once we were safely back behind our desks at school, I could feel the tension flowing downstream from her desk – it was palpable enough that I risked breaking a school rule to pop into the instant messenger system on my tablet.

** _Adrien:_ ** _ You still want to finish your sketch?_

It took a few moments but then her response popped up.

** _Princess: _ ** _I do. Why do you ask?_

**_Adrien:_**_ Your feet are tapping out _Stayin’ Alive_ which generally means you want to be somewhere else. ;-)_

** _Princess: _ ** _Ooop! Sorry. Yeah, I was going to head back to Trocadero after school. Wanna go with?_

** _Adrien:_ ** _ I have Fencing._

** _Princess:_ ** _ That’s not stopped you before._

** _Adrien:_ ** _ As you wish, Milady…_

Smiling, I returned my attention to the lecture, but found it hard to keep my thoughts focused on the particular way our teacher was going over derivatives. It was far more interesting plotting out how I’d escape from Fencing. Marinette was right, I _had_ managed to both be at Fencing _and_ use it as cover to transform and deal with an akuma without being missed. I’d rarely used it as a way to make time for a personal activity Father would frown on, so I needed to think through it a bit more carefully.

By the time Gorilla dropped me at Fencing with my gear, I’d pre-cleared with Nathalie that I’d be hanging with friends searching for Andre and his ice cream cart after practice. That gave me the necessary wiggle room – allowing me to discretely disappear when the moment was right during practice, then return home on my own later.

My moment came about two-thirds of the way through practice; our instructor had broken us into smaller groups to practice a particular set of parrying, but there were an odd number of students in attendance that afternoon. Graciously, I stepped back to allow everyone a partner, and then stepped further back into the shadows of the locker room where I was able to transform into Chat Noir uninterrupted. Mere moments later, I was out the window and headed into the late afternoon sunshine; the only nod to the irregularity of my actions was the athletic bag I had slung over my costume shoulder. It took a few rooftops before I correctly accounted for how its movements affected my trajectory, reminding me yet again why I tended _not_ to tote anything when transformed.

I found Marinette right back in the spot that Nathaniel had kidnapped her from not five hours earlier. Landing in a crouch just behind her, I moved to her side and peered around her shoulder, my blond bangs falling across my face as I leaned over. “Hey, Princess,” I said. “How’s it going?”

“Chat,” she said, turned toward me with a smile while flipping the cover closed on her sketchbook. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“I had to pick my moment,” I said, folding into my patient cat-stance next to her. “The good news is, we can go for Andre’s ice cream later.”

“Really?” she said eyes widening with excitement. “How’d you manage that?”

“I told Nathalie I was going with friends to find him,” I said as I shrugged, sliding my bag off my shoulder in the process. “Which is true, save for the fact it’s just you.” I laughed a bit, hard enough my bell jingled. “We’ll have to use your phone to find Andre, though. I’ve yet to figure out how to download apps on my baton.”

Marinette smiled. “No problem. Now, if you please, a little space?”

“What?” I purred, intentionally leaning into her. “I thought you wanted your muse with you.”

“I do,” she laughed, batting me away. “But you’re on my sketching arm.”

“Ah,” I said, still purring as I pulled back. “How’s this.”

“Purrfect,” she said as she bent back toward her sketch.

Much as before, I was entranced by her movements, and slid around so I could face her. Also cognizant that I had a paper due in a few days on Napoléon’s exile to St. Helena, I reluctantly pulled my tablet out of the bag and set about picking up the thread I’d started in the library earlier that day. I looked up every so often as I wrote or flipped between primary sources for my research, amazed every single time at how thoroughly Marinette threw herself into her work. I’d still not seen what she was working on, and I had to admit, my feline urge to find out was starting to win.

Keeping one feline ear tuned to the swishing of her pencil across the page, I managed to add the final pages I needed to my paper, leaving me with just the conclusion section and the bibliography. I was really starting to get the hang of typing with claws. Looking up, I saw the sun had moved into the Golden Hour of the day, extending long filaments of warm light across everything. I also knew that meant Andre would have started his rounds for the evening. I started to say something to Marinette when my stomach instead issued a loud rumble.

She turned and saw my sheepish grin. “In my defense, it _is_ dinner time,” I said.

Looking at her phone, Marinette smiled. “So it is. And it looks like dessert first – Andre is under the Tower tonight.”

My masked green eyes turned toward the landmark; squinting, even with superior feline vision, I wasn’t sure I could see him. There was a glint of metal, so maybe. “Works for me,” I replied as I packed up my tablet and slung the bag back over my costumed shoulder as I stood. “Might I escort Milady to her repast?” I asked, extending my paw as I bowed.

“That never gets old.” Giggling, Marinette stood up, taking my paw. “Yes, as soon as I pack up my supplies.”

I set us down in the broad esplanade beneath the tower as the last rays of light dissipated. Releasing Marinette from my arm, I shortened my baton to slide it back into storage as we joined the queue that had formed in front of Andre’s jaunty little cart. I could tell from the furtive glances that we were an unexpected couple, but our fellow Parisians apparently decided that superheroes could have date night, too, and gave us a respectful space. Marinette’s hand firmly in my paw, we finally reached Andre who immediately came around and pulled the two of us into one of his signature bear hugs.

“My _favorite_ couple in all of Paris!” he cried. 

“Andre, that can’t be true,” I said, smiling as he released us and hurried back to his wagon.

“Oh, but it is my dear black cat. Here, let me get the usual for you…”

In short order, I had a cone that (I felt) evoked Ladybug perfectly, while Marinette had her frozen version of Adrien. Technically, we were interchangeable with our alter-egos, but it was always fun to think of the treats in the way we had originally seen them. Scooping a little from my cone, I walked arm-in-arm with Marinette toward some benches where we could sit for a bit to enjoy our pre-dinner dessert.

Settling in on the bench, I tried to ignore the smartphones that were recording our movements. I wasn’t sure, but it felt like there were more than normal. “Well, here is to the end of a very, very long day,” I said, scooping another big portion of chocolate into my mouth.

“Hear! Hear!” she laughed, smiling at me with that brilliant grin that often reached her eyes, too. Leaning into my arm, she added: “It wasn’t exactly the _worst_ thing running around a fairytale castle today. Or being rescued by my handsome knight. Odd, but not the oddest thing we’ve done.”

“Quite true.”

The whirring of smartphones caught my feline ears again, and I looked up; the crowd had grown, and to my surprise, we seemed to be surrounded by people taking our photo. I was used to fans wanting to snap a photo or video of me – both as Adrien and as Chat -- but this was unsettling even by my standards. “Mari,” I breathed.

Turning away from her ice cream, Marinette looked in the direction I’d indicated. “We seem to have attracted some attention,” she observed.

“That appears to be an understatement.” Now fully on alert, I shifted slightly and frowned. “They’re behind us, too.”

“Look at their eyes,” Marinette said urgently.

Scanning the crowd that was now two or three people deep, all holding a smartphone in our direction, I could see what I’d missed originally: to a person, their eyes had a haunted, empty expression, and were not focused even on the camera they were holding on us. “Some kind of zombie?” I asked quietly as I put down my ice cream.

“Given the smartphones, I’m going to go with akuma victims,” she replied. “Can you get us out of here?”

“It’ll have to be up or down,” I said. “Up might be a be precarious,” I added looking into the superstructure of the tower above us. “We have to assume there are civilians affected there too.”

“And less space to operate,” she added. “Down then.”

The crowd was now less than fifteen meters from our bench.

“Cataclysm?” Marinette asked.

“I’m going to try and save that,” I replied. “Get behind me,” I added as I dropped to my knees in front of the bench.

One of the ubiquitous circular city utility covers was just in front of where we were sitting. Normally opened by a special tool, I was able to jam my extended baton into the slot and jimmied the cover off; it rolled away from us and circled slowly, clanging metallically against the stone. As it did so, I grabbed Marinette and dropped into the darkness below.

Landing on the brickwork running next to one of the massive sewer lines in the city, I encircled Marinette with my paw and started off at a run. My feline ears had already heard our photo-zombies dropping down behind me, and every instinct told me we needed to get away.

From what, exactly, I had yet to discover.

It looked like it was going to be a much longer day than either of us had expected.


	38. Picture Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Just once, Chat would like to have a quiet evening with his girlfriend. Ah, the trials and tribulations of being a superhero couple…_

Marinette and I raced along the raised stone pathway that paralleled the vaguely phosphorescent water flowing along beside us. I could hear multiple footfalls behind us as the photo zombies continued to pursue us; rounding a gentle bend in the corridor, I saw a grouping coming through an access hatch ahead of us, effectively cutting off that escape option.

Groaning, my masked eyes shifted to the glowing water. “I hesitate to suggest this,” I said as we came to a stop, “but even if you transform now, I don’t think we have enough space to effectively fight off this horde. We need a better spot.”

“Agreed,” Marinette said as she dug through her purse. In a moment, she came up with her special box of macaroons, the ones that allowed her to use her special transformations. Pulling the top off, she yanked out a green colored one. Looking back at me, she said, “Not knowing what we might find down there, it seems prudent to be prepared. Do you have your aqua mode cheese?”

I swiveled my head and noted the zombies were closing. Snapping my baton into rebreather mode, I frowned at my partner. “I do but there’s not enough time for me to detransform. I’ll shield you, but hurry!”

She nodded and I turned, covering her with my back. I heard Marinette murmur her phrase and felt more than saw her transformation wave wash over her. A fraction of a moment later, she pushed me forward and over the edge of the walkway; I stretched into a graceful swan dive and split the surface of the water cleanly before activating the SCUBA/rebreather function on my baton. I’d only used it a few times but knew I had more than enough time to swim wherever we needed to go.

Ladybug dove in beside me and paddled, smiling. “We don’t get to do this very often,” she laughed.

Unable to reply myself, I simply smiled around the baton.

She was much faster in her fully-transformed aqua mode, but I managed a credible attempt to stay with her; we didn’t appear to have any friends follow us into the murky depths of the channel, and soon we were passing through a connecting pipe that emptied into a much bigger body of water. We’d made it to the Seine, and I stroked for the surface of the wide river. Bursting through, I pulled the rebreather out and tried not to think too terribly much about what I’d just been swimming through. 

Ladybug appeared next to me, bobbing at the surface. “Bank?” she asked.

I nodded and dove back in, stroking for the nearest edge of the river. By the time I was using my claws to haul myself out of the water, Ladybug was already on the stone walkway, grinning widely. “One up on you for once,” she laughed as I flopped onto the stone, dripping.

“Hah, _hah_,” I said, frowning, as I disabled the rebreather and stowed my baton. “I didn’t happen to see our akuma before we made our escape,” I added as I tried to wring out my tail a bit. “Did you?”

“No,” Ladybug said. “What troubles me more is the location where we were set upon. It’s almost as if Hawkmoth knew we’d be there.”

I nodded; it had been bothering me as well. “Technically, though, Chat was the only one present.”

Ladybug nodded more slowly. “Yes, but Chat was with Marinette,” she added. Hearing her talk about us in the third person was a bit strange. “And it’s pretty much become an open secret that we’re dating.” 

I smiled thinly as I stood up. “The Tower or Andre. Two of the most romantic spots in the city.” I looked up at the Tower. “What are the odds that they would intersect tonight?”

“Unlikely,” Ladybug said as we started to run along the edge of the river. “Andre tends to prefer more out of the way places. It’s part of his game.”

We bolted up a stairway to street level and circled back around toward Trocadero. “Hawkmoth is watching you, then,” I observed. “Knowing I’d appear sooner or later. And there have been plenty of photos of us getting ice cream on the Ladyblog.” I looked up at the heights of the Tower as we approached it again. “He seems to have assumed Ladybug would appear to rescue me if I got into trouble.”

“A brilliant strategy,” she laughed. “One informed with data, it appears.”

“Hey!” I said, half-seriously. “It’s been _weeks_ since you’ve had to get me out of a situation.”

I caught her rolling her eyes. “If we’re right, our akuma is up in the Tower after all,” she said. “It would explain the crowd; however it’s converting it’s victims into zombies, it would be easier to do it from up there.”

“I had a fifty-fifty chance,” I said. “And safety seemed like the right course of action.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

We ran up to one of the half-walls overlooking the broad plaza and crouched behind it. I poked my feline mane just above and saw the mass of zombies were still milling about in the broad space. “There seem to be more than I remember,” I said quietly. “They appear a bit lost since we’re not immediately visible.”

“What can you see on the tower?”

I looked up and trained my feline vision on the levels of the Tower. “There is some sort of flash on the first floor,” I said, squinting. “It’s irregular. Might be whatever the device is that Photo Bomb is using.”

Ladybug arched a masked eyebrow at me as I slid back down. “Photo Bomb? Really?”

I shrugged. “Why not? Fits what the zombies were doing.”

“We don’t really know _what_ they were doing,” she said.

“Milady, I have to assume having them take our picture would have been really, really bad.”

“Good point,” she said. “Standard approach, then?”

“Works for me,” I said, pulling my baton out and extending it into battle staff mode. I paused, one paw on the edge of the wall, and leaned over to snatch a kiss from Ladybug.

“What was that for?” she asked, bemused. “Not that I mind, of course.”

“Luck,” I cried as I hurled myself over the edge and ran headlong toward the milling zombies. My feline hearing picked up her muttering something about my being a science-fiction nerd, which only widened my already menacing smile.

The zombies turned toward our approach like a school of minnows; growling, I swung my baton back and forth like I was clearing a corn field and mowed several rows of them down. But unlike real zombies, these seemed capable of reacting to the changing situation. The fourth wave I hit sidestepped my arc and instead latched on to either end of the baton. Simple physics resulted in my being thrown up and over my weapon, and I hit the cold granite face down, only to skid a few more meters.

“They appear to be learning,” I said as I flipped back up and turned to run back toward my baton only to skid to a startled yet rubbery stop.

Fascinated, I watched as several zombies held up their phones and quickly took a full circuit of photos of my baton as other zombies continued to hold it; when they hit the final part of the arc, my baton vanished. It took me a moment to register that I was hearing the same clicking noises around me; I leapt up and double-barrel-rolled into a landing behind the crowd that had re-gathered around me.

“I knew there was a reason I disliked paparazzi,” I hissed from my crouch. “LB, I think if they get a full set of photos of an object, it goes into storage of some kind.”

“Egads,” she said from somewhere off to my side. “Let’s book it toward the Tower; I have no idea how complete their set it on us. If we keep moving--”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I said, bounding away from the crowd on all fours. 

Keeping close to the granite allowed me the ability to scoot around the zombies rather effectively, though more than a few nearly managed to snag me on my way past. I knew it was a race to get away from the crowd before they adjusted their tactics again. 

“Ladybug, can you hoist me?” I asked, as we’d just managed to reach the esplanade beneath the Tower. “Without my baton…”

“Yeah,” she said from where she was running full steam alongside me. “I need your back!”

“Got it!” I replied, coming to a halt and bracing myself.

Ladybug came at me like a gymnast on approach for the vault; she leapt a few meters away from me and came down on my back. In that same moment, I flung myself upward, giving her an extra boost as she flew up into the open space. I heard her yo-yo sing out and her lithe form zipped away from me; a moment later, the business end of her yo-yo appeared and I snatched out of the air only to be lifted up and away from the lumbering crowd that had encircled me.

I found her standing on a crossbeam when I landed beside her. “Thanks,” I said, bowing graciously as she re-wound her yo-yo. “That was a bit close.”

“Yeah,” she said as we both looked upward. We were a few meters below the decking for the first floor. “Ready?”

“Yes,” I said as I leapt from the cross beam to snag another with my claws; quickly, I worked my way from beam to beam before making the edge of the floor and pulling myself over.

The space was clear, save for a tall figure overlooking the safety rail at the far end. Clothed in unrelieved black, it had an odd artistic-like beanie on; I could see a leather strap behind the neck, presumably connected to something being held away from me at that moment. Long, flowing red hair spilled over the black outfit, making for an unusual counterpoint. All the same, my ears automatically flattened in alarm; there were some serious negative vibrations emanating toward me. 

“Chat,” a distinctly female voice said quietly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Here I am,” I said, keeping to my crouch and staying well away from her. “What’s with the photos?”

“I just wanted one selfie with you. Was that too much to ask?”

I frowned. In either guise, I was used to being asked to be in a photo with a fan; it was rare I declined. “Not usually,” I said carefully. “What happened?”

“You said… _no_!” Photo Bomb cried as she whirled on me, training the largest thirty-five-millimeter camera I’d even seen on me – and, as a model, I’d seen plenty. 

I manage to leap sideways just as a loud _click_ issued from the camera and a blue-yellow burst of nasty looking energy zapped the trashcan just behind where I’d been crouching. The can (and a bit of the railing it was against) instantly disappeared. “When you say taking a photo, you mean it,” I mused as I leapt up and away from another beam, hitting the outside of the restaurant’s wall with my claws before scrabbling away again.

The next few minutes were spent staying a whisker ahead of the increasingly more frustrated akuma. I wracked my brain but couldn’t remember turning down a request for a selfie – in either guise – in recent memory. “When did I insult you?” I asked as I swung around a flagpole holding the French national flag.

“Does it matter?” she said coldly. “Once I have you in my album, I’ll have you to myself. Forever.”

Something clicked with me – pun intend. Aside, of course, from the fur that stood on end with her emphasis on the word _forever_. “You saw me on the blog, didn’t you?”

“The _blog_,” she hissed, narrowly missing me once more as I leapt to cling to the side of one of the legs of the tower. “I had more traffic than she did. And then you started dating.”

I vaulted over her, wondering if I could get close enough to hit the camera with Cataclysm. She was moving too fast at the moment, so with luck, Ladybug would come up with something to help in that area. “Alya is our official blogger,” I said, wondering if any sort of logical argument was going to work. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t appear anywhere else.”

“That’s not the _point_,” she screamed. “_I _was the prime Chat Noir blogger. _I_ should still be!”

I started to answer and paused when I caught a faint _Lucky Charm!_ cry on the wind. Smiling slightly, I swung back down and landed in a four-point crouch directly in front of Photo Bomb. “I’m sure we meownt be able to accommodate you,” I purred, smiling wider. “How about your own photoshoot with me? Enough for a full library of shots for your blog.”

That seemed to give Photo Bomb pause, and some of the bluster faded. “And an exclusive one-on-one interview?”

“At least an hour,” I said. “I’ll even toss in a secret or two that hasn’t appeared on the Ladyblog.”

“You’d do that? For me?”

I nodded. “Of course.” I smiled wider. “You only had to ask.”

Fading even more, Photo Bomb nodded. “Okay.”

Carefully, I approached her and gently pulled the camera from her hands; it wasn’t a moment too soon. Photo Bomb suddenly got that faraway look that I knew meant Hawkmoth was giving further instructions. In a quick maneuver, I dashed the camera to the deck plating and watched as the purple butterfly appeared from amongst the debris. Ladybug dropped down next to me, holding a fish tank and looking a bit bewildered. 

“Guess I won’t need this,” she said as she set the tank down and nabbed the butterfly with her yo-yo.

“I aim to please,” I replied, arching an eyebrow at the fish tank. “What, exactly, were you planning on doing with that?”

“I haven’t a clue,” she admitted. “I was just starting to run ideas when you talked her off the cliff.”

I turned back to the young girl who’d appeared after the akuma spell broke and the purple wave had washed over her; it took a second, but I was reasonably certain I remembered her face from the park when I’d been distracting Alya in order for Marinette to get her sketching done. After promising to meet her that weekend in the same place for her very own one-on-one with Chat Noir, Ladybug and I slipped over the side of the Tower and headed for the esplanade. I had to leapfrog my way down and fought back some snarky observations as she lowered herself on the yo-yo; one Miraculous Ladybug later, I had my baton back but had lost my girlfriend in order for her to dash madly into the gathering darkness to find a spot to de-transform.

Fortunately, she was gone long enough that I was able to replace the two orders of ice cream we’d started from a very surprised Andre, who had also reappeared right where we had left him. I was smiling broadly when Marinette wandered back. “Right on time,” I laughed as she took her Adrien Cone from me. “It’s not even melted yet.”

As we started once more for the park bench, she hooked an arm inside mine and said, softly, “No, Chat. It melted for you a long time ago.”

Realizing we were no longer talking about ice cream, I laughed and leaned my wild feline mane into her hair. “Yes,” I concurred, “mine, too.”


	39. Higher Profile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _After fighting off an akuma created because of social media, I figured a nice, quiet chapter was due for our two superhero teens. Hah! Had you fooled there for a minute, didn’t I…?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Special Note: As I am taking the plunge and doing the 2019 version of National November Write a Novel Month, I’ve created shorter chapters for the next few weeks so I can continue to provide fresh content while I am furiously working on that project. (Feel free to follow along if you like over on their website; I’ll take all the support I can get!)_

“You want me to do _what?_” I asked, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.

“Post. On social media.”

It wasn’t possible for me to arch my masked eyebrow any higher without permanently damaging my face. “As Chat?”

“No, silly kitty,” Marinette laughed. “As Adrien. Alya is already taking care of Chat and Ladybug.”

“I’m confused,” I said. “I thought we were supposed to keep our superhero selves separate from our civilian selves.”

“We will,” Marinette said. She was starting to get exasperated - perhaps because this was her third time trying to explain to me her idea.

After finishing our ice cream – uninterrupted this time - we’d returned to the Bakery rooftop patio. I could see the wheels had been turning for my girlfriend and settled in atop my upended flower pot to patiently wait for her to spell out her latest plan. It had taken two plates of cookies to get this far, and I’d begun to wonder if even my souped-up metabolism could handle so much sugar in one evening.

I snagged another macaroon from the plate she’d placed between us on her small table, and chewed thoughtfully. The whole thing seemed a bit hairbrained to me, and had come out of the last akuma we’d fought; she’d been a blogger that had been lost beneath the cavalcade of posting Alya had wrought when she started to cover our exploits. Marinette reasoned that if our two civilian alter-egos were busily posting to social media while we were simultaneously out saving Paris as Chat and Ladybug, it could add another layer of protection and, possibly, obfuscation.

“I’m already rather famous, Milady,” I reminded her. “If I start a Whatsitgram account, it’s going to obliterate anything Alya posts.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Instagram. And no, it won’t; it doesn’t work that way.”

I couldn’t help it. The other eyebrow went up. “It doesn’t?”

“No,” she replied. “We’ll compliment what Alya does. If the two of us post, and then collectively comment on items Alya posts, we’ll drive more traffic to her and _away_ from the two of us.”

I shook my mane. “No,” I said, “this still doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Trust me,” Marinette said a fraction of a second before leaping out of her chair to snap a selfie with an arm around me.

“Hey!” I cried out. “Don’t I have to sign a release or something first?” I laughed.

“Maybe,” she chuckled as she worked her phone for a moment. “There,” she said. “I’m ready to make my first post!” she said happily, showing me her phone.

Grimacing, I looked at the screen to see my girlfriend with her arm wrapped around one of the superheroes of Paris – one who looked like paparazzi had surprised him. Badly. “Princess, if we are going to do this moving forward, might I suggest a few changes in your photographic technique?”

I pulled her phone from her hand. “Hold me here,” I said, placing her hand across my shoulder with a finger just a whisker from my bell. “Now, look at me, while I look at the camera…” I said as I clicked the shutter.

“There!” I said, showing her the better shot. 

Marinette smiled as she nodded approvingly. “Once a model, always a model,” she laughed. “Let me delete the other photo and post this one instead.”

“Good,” I replied as I moved to the railing. “Sadly, I need to get home.” I paused, then held my paw to my chest. “Parting is such sweet sorrow…”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Goodnight, Romeo.”

“Till the morn, Juliette,” I laughed. “See you at school.”

“You know it,” she laughed. “Holy cow,” she breathed as I leapt off the railing. “I’ve already got fifty likes…”


	40. Special Projects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Still wrestling with Marinette’s idea for social media, Chat discovers he’s been left out of her initial plans… much to his chagrin…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Special Note: As I am taking the plunge and doing the 2019 version of National November Write a Novel Month, I’ve created shorter chapters for the next few weeks so I can continue to provide fresh content while I am furiously working on that project. (Feel free to follow along if you like over on their website; I’ll take all the support I can get!)_

It was well after midnight by the time I returned to the mansion; fighting off two akumas in one day and spending the remaining waking hours with Marinette had taken their toll, and I quickly drifted off to sleep after de-transforming. I wasn’t as rested as I thought I’d be the next morning, and seeing Marinette’s puffy eyes in class confirmed she’d not gotten any sleep either.

“Hey,” I smiled as I slid behind my desk. “You look as tired as I feel.”

“I had a special project last night,” she said, eyes narrowing at me. “It had my entire attention, even after I went to bed.”

“Did it?” I trained a Chat smirk on her. “Are you finished with it?”

“Doubt it,” she replied as she settled in.

I had a bad pun teed up, but our teacher started the lecture at that point. The day was a whirlwind of learning, and other than the group work the two of us were part of, I didn’t find myself alone with her until that final period of the day we spent in the library. Once more at our customary table, I had my tablet out but in truth only had eyes for Marinette.

She, in turn, had an array of work in front of her, but was primarily focused on her phone. And, for once, completely ignoring me. Arching an eyebrow, it occurred to me that I could transform into Chat in front of her and she’d have been completely oblivious. “Princess,” I said quietly, “your hair is on fire.”

“Second period, I think,” she replied.

Looking out across the library, I started to _seriously_ consider the transformation idea. Fortunately, my instinct for self-preservation kicked in and I sighed instead. “What are you doing, Milady?”

“Maybe later,” she nodded as she scrolled her phone. Belatedly, she looked up at me. “Wait – what did you ask?”

“I asked if you wanted to catch a movie tonight,” I said. 

“It’s a weeknight,” she frowned.

“I know,” I said. “But I’m caught up on schoolwork and could use a relaxing evening.” I paused. “For a lot of reasons.”

Marinette sighed. “Me, too, but I’ve got stuff to do at the Bakery.”

I felt my face light up. “Really? Like baking-stuff?”

“No… well, yes,” she said and now she looked embarrassed. “I, uh, asked papa to let me snap some shots of us baking together.”

I slowly nodded. “For Whatsathingie,” I said, trying hard to keep the sadness out of my voice.

“Instagram! Right,” she said. “You should do the same.”

Cracking a wider Chat smile, I replied, “There’s not much of a chance I’d get Father into the kitchen with me.”

“Not baking per se, silly kitty,” she admonished. “Take some selfies while you play the piano or something.”

This time I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “_That_ sounds far more attractive than a movie.”

“Come _on_, Chat,” she said rather forcefully, unexpectedly calling out my alter-ego. “Work with me here.”

My eyes widened. “Okay,” I said slowly as I stood and packed up my tablet. “Rain check on the movie, then?”

“Yeah,” she said, suddenly looking concerned. “Look—”

“See you tomorrow,” I smiled as I placed a light kiss on her hair.


	41. Movies for One?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Disappointed that he’s not been invited to help out at the Bakery, Chat decides to have movie night anyway… though it’s not quite the same solo._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _As I am taking the plunge and doing the 2019 version of National November Write a Novel Month, I’ve created shorter chapters for the next few weeks so I can continue to provide fresh content while I am furiously working on that project. So far, so good - but it's only the first weekend! (Feel free to follow along if you like over on their website; I’ll take all the support I can get!)_

I left her behind in the library and trundled down the steps toward the main entrance. School was nearly out for the day anyway, and generally I left a little early for Fencing or my Chinese tutor. Neither were on tap for that afternoon, though, which is what I’d been planning on telling Marinette. Father had informed me via Nathalie that morning that he’d be leaving Paris for a few days to travel for the thousandth time to Hong Kong to nail down some sort of fabric supplier. Unusually, he’d taken a number of the staff with him save Gorilla, who was waiting for me in the sedan.

I’d hoped to tell Gorilla that I was hanging with Marinette and would return afterward, which he had normally acquiesced to in the past. As my hand pulled open the door to the passenger seat, I decided on a whim to follow through on my original idea. “I won’t need a ride,” I smiled. “I’m studying with Marinette tonight and will be back late.”

He looked at me.

“I’ll call if I need you,” I said, smiling wider.

Nodding slightly, I took that as his assent and closed the door. It took a ton of willpower not to wave at the departing sedan happily; once he was around the corner, I made a dash for the alleyway and transformed into Chat Noir. As much as I hated luggage, I kept my satchel with me as I rose up into the Parisian afternoon, for I still intended to catch a movie – even if it was without my girlfriend.

There was a nearly perfectly slanted roof facing Le Grand Palais that I’d recently discovered that provided stunning views of the sunset, and then made for comfortable lounging for stargazing or, as with tonight, streaming. My impulsiveness had left me with no food for dinner, but I figured to pick up something once I was back at the mansion. Changing my mind slightly once more, I settled in to catch up on the latest episodes of the newest iteration of _Star Trek_. Idly, I wondered how a human-sized cat would be treated in that fictional future; would I be an alien among humans? 

Captain Chat? It had a neat ring to it.

The season one finale was just rolling credits (my God! Was that the _Enterprise?!_) when I looked up to see the sun had sunk below the horizon. Long golden tendrils of light radiated outward against clouds that had turned periwinkle; it was so beautiful, it nearly took my breath away. And for just a moment, I had a touch of melancholy that my lady wasn’t with me to see it.

Sighing contentedly, I shifted my streaming services in order to watch the latest _Spider-Man_ movie. I’d often wondered about my kindred spirit in New York; like him, a movie had been made about Chat and Ladybug, though it was so divorced from the realities of what we did that it was hard to watch. I’d told Cap a while back that I’d heard he was a teen just like us and hoped he’d been able to balance school and superhero duties.

I flipped around and curled up against my satchel to watch the movie, but clearly was still tired; one moment, I was watching the opening sequence of the movie, the next, my masked eyes snapped open at the sound of my civilian phone beeping and the tablet asking me if I wanted to watch the movie again. I’d been using my phone as a hotspot for the tablet (I could do the same with the baton but hadn’t wanted to go through the bother of keying in the special code to connect) but had to dig it out of the depths of the satchel to see what all the noise was about.

My masked eyes widened when I saw they were notifications from Instagram.


	42. No Cookies for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat learns the truth of the Bakery social media exercise (or thinks he does) and makes a rather rash decision to compensate for being passed over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Special Note: This is another shorter chapter while I work on my 2019 NaNoWriMo project. Ten days in and I’m still standing; I have to admit to being a bit worried about losing my MLB threads while I focus on my novel, but so far, so good. --ep _

Despite my protestations to the contrary, I was actually quite familiar with Instagram and had followed the Ladyblog long before I knew who Ladybug was; Alya seemed to have the best luck in getting shots of us, and more than a few of my partner were on my phone… computer wallpaper… tablet lock screen… you get the idea. Tonight, though, she had cross posted with Marinette – for as it turns out, she was there, in the kitchen, helping Marinette in the Bakery.

Flipping through the posts, there were hundreds of comments from our friends and other followers of Alya, which is what had triggered the notifications. More than a few were teasing Marinette as to the particular flavor of macaroons in one shot – it was no longer a secret that she’d made a special batch for Adrien for months before shifting (officially) to dating Chat -- but most were what I thought of as the general drivel that abounds in social media.

I was a little torn, though. While Marinette hadn’t expressly _not_ invited me over, I’d assumed it was a family thing. Now I realized she’d been working out the details with Alya while we were in the library, for she was truly taking this social media thing more seriously that I’d first understood. Alya was my friend too, so I didn’t begrudge her the time, but still, somehow, I felt left out.

And that is when the really terrible bad idea hit me.

Sliding the baton from my back, I snapped it open to phone mode. Scrolling through it, I found the web browser function and quickly set to work crafting a new account on Instagram. Mere moments later, I’d snapped a photo of myself lounging on the rooftop as I casually twirled my tail, best sly Chat look upon my face, then added a brief comment:

_Waiting for the cookies and my Purrincess_

Tagging both Marinette and Alya, I smiled a Chat-smile and pressed the _post_ button. 

And then, nearly immediately, regretted it. 

Within moments, @ChatNoir had over a thousand likes on his first post and nearly that many comments to match. Masked eyes widening, I snapped the baton shut as if to stop the deluge and then stared at the stars knowing I was about to get a phone call.

I didn’t have long to wait. The baton nearly jumped out of my hands when it buzzed, and I carefully slid it open to see the somewhat (okay _very_) angry face of my partner. “Chat,” she seethed. “What on _earth_ were you thinking? When I said post on social media…!”

“I know,” I said, chagrined. “I’m sorry. I saw your baking photos and…” I trailed off, feeling my face warm with embarrassment.

Her look softened slightly. “Oh,” she said. “You thought—no, that’s not the case at all,” she continued. “Alya is more of an expert than I am at coming up with scenarios to post, much like you have the better ideas for camera angles and poses.” She paused. “This was _supposed_ to be a night for me to get the knack of it.”

“Sorry,” I said, trying to go for feline Doll Eyes to get out of the mess.

“I’m still not happy with you, kitty, though. Delete the account.”

“Yes, Milady,” I replied. “I suppose this means no cookies?”

“Correct,” she said, though her mouth was quirking a bit. “And now you’re gonna have to come over here and pose with said cookies.”

“Without being able to taste even one?” I mewled. “That’s torture, pure and simple.”

“It’s the price you’ll have to pay to get back into my good graces.”

I sighed as I started to pack up my tablet. “You know I’ll pay it,” I smiled.

“Yes,” she said sweetly. “Now, get your cute kitty butt over here so we can clean up this mess you made.”

“As you wish, Milady,” I intoned. Then: “One cookie?”

“No.”

“Puuhlease…” I pleaded, ratcheting Doll Eyes up to eleven.

She cracked. “Maybe. If you’re good.”

“I can be,” I smiled slyly.

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of…”


	43. Quiet Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _After blowing up social media with his own account, Marinette insists that Chat lay low for a few nights. He agrees, but with conditions (of course)…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Special Note: I’m getting close to the end of National November Write a Novel Month, so the shorter chapters will start to become longer. Thanks for hanging in there with me!_

It took a Herculean effort to remove all traces of the @ChatNoir account, but after a very long evening, it had been eradicated from all but the Internet Wayback Machine. I knew it would be longer before I was completely out of the cat-house with Marinette, and anxiously awaited the dropping of the other shoe. We were curled into each other in a nook of the Eiffel Tower late the evening after my Instagram fiasco, watching the sparkles of the lights of Paris when Ladybug cleared her throat. 

I knew what was coming. “Chat,” she said softly.

“Milady?” I asked, burying my face in her hair and taking in the exotic fragrance of my partner.

“We’ve managed to repair the damage from last night, but I’ve been talking it over with Alya. She thinks it might be best for you to stay out of the public eye for a few days.”

“Chat? Or Adrien?”

“Both,” she said. “Though the latter is probably harder to accomplish.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “My schedule is not my own on that front.” I leaned down toward her. “But Chat can stay out of the public eye and still come visit you, Milady.”

“True,” she said, “but since you so publicly tagged Marinette, we’ve had photographers camped out at the Bakery ever since.”

“Oh,” I said, crestfallen. “But we’ve been a public couple for some time now,” I countered.

“Not as public as we are now,” she laughed. “They’ll go away in a day or two, but until then, it’ll be a challenge for me to escape as Ladybug, let alone have Chat Noir appear as regularly as he does.”

“Oh,” I repeated. Then I brightened up. “That means you can come to me then!”

“What?” Ladybug replied, shocked. “No way – that would be---”

“Father’s out of town for a few more days,” I said happily. “Gorilla’s babysitting me, and not well at that. He’d never know if you stayed over a few nights, actually.”

She rolled her eyes. “Definitely not doing that. But I suppose… I _could_ visit tomorrow night, at your usual time?”

“Works for me,” I said happily. “Are you coming as yourself?” I asked.

“That’s an odd question,” she smiled. “Of course I am.”

“No, silly,” I laughed. “I mean as Ladybug.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding a lot like me earlier. “I… I don’t know. You can’t be Chat—”

“Sure I can,” I chuckled. “Just give me a heads up before you come over whether I open a window or wait by the door.”

Ladybug looked skeptical, but agreed before we parted ways for the evening. I tried hard not to pester her too much in class the next day as to how she would be arriving at the mansion; by the time we were making for the exits and the beginning of the weekend, she’d taken on a bit of a cryptic smile.

“I’m going to let you rely on those finely honed feline senses of yours,” she said as we said goodbye in front of the sedan. 

“Okay,” I said, arching an eyebrow. “You realize the mysteriousness of this is going to kill me.”

“And whose fault is that?” she reminded me, with a soft bop to my nose.

I laughed as I got into the car. “See you later, then.”


	44. Anticipation is a Chat's Worst Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Marinette agrees to visit Chat at the mansion but decides to keep him on pins-and-needles as to who will show up – and how. Predictably, it drives the kitty crazy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Special Note: Just about wrapped up on my NaNoWriNo project, so these chapters will slowly begin to get longer. Thanks for being patient with me! --ep_

Over dinner, I realized what she’d said had been something of a hint, perhaps, as to how she would arrive. Bolting the last of my salad, I grabbed extra cheese for Plagg and dashed up to my room. My kwami seemed to be desiring a similar end to the mystery and for once didn’t complain about being forced to transform so soon after eating.

Green glow of transformation behind me, I vaulted through the window and curled myself up to the roof of the mansion, climbing to the very top of the tallest chimney we had. I’d perched there a number of times when I wanted some fresh air or just had deep thoughts to ponder, but tonight, knew it would give me an expansive view of the surrounding streets.

Smiling to myself, I said softly, “Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

Normally, I’d appear on the Bakery patio after I’d had dinner, generally around 1900. I kept checking my baton, for as the digits moved closer to that time, I wondered if Ladybug would appear on the exact same schedule. Knowing Marinette as well as I did, it was easy for her to get distracted and therefore leave late for an appointment. Then again, we’d not explicitly set a time, which I presumed was part of the game she was kind of playing with me.

1900 came and went, though, followed by 1930 and then 1945. Getting a bit worried, I switched to the tracking app, but the ladybug logo didn’t appear. I changed gears and switched to the Cat Phone, and speed dialed Marinette; it went immediately to voicemail.

Seriously concerned, I leapt away from the chimney and took a speed route to the Bakery. Mindful of the paparazzi that had laid siege to the place, I landed on a nearby rooftop and crouched behind a parapet, peeking over just enough to get a sense of the lay of the land. While the photographers had thinned out noticeably, there were still a half-dozen camped out in the small square in front of the Bakery, and another handful stationed at the entrance to the park. I looked up at the rooftop patio, and saw that the party lights were not on; blinking into my night vision, my masked eyes didn’t pick up any trace of my partner.

Cautiously, I sniffed the air, trying to see if I could pick up Marinette’s distinctive scent -- or Ladybug’s for that matter. Feeling like it was a bit of a boundary violation, I’d tended to try _not_ to track her in that manner, but my worry for her safety had grown enough to justify it. The wind was light and not helpful, but after a few moments, I picked up a tiny thread of her notes of vanilla and exotic spices. 

It was coming from the Bakery, so that meant she had to still be there, or had recently left. But I’d need to get closer to tell for sure, and that would mean trying to evade the paparazzi. Frowning, I popped open my baton and tried Marinette one more time.

To my surprise, the tiny screen lit up, but not with Marinette’s face. Instead, a seedy-looking young man with a scraggily beard and sunglasses perched in his hair smiled back at me. “Chat Noir,” he said triumphantly before turning to someone off screen. “It’s his number for sure.”

“Who are you?” I asked a little pointedly. “This isn’t your phone.”

“I know,” he said, smiling wider. “How often do you visit this Bakery? How long have you known the young woman you are dating?”

“_Where_ is Marinette?” I asked with a dangerous growl.

“Oooooh…” he smiled, looking offscreen. “Look at this, guys. The little kitty is getting all protective.”

I flashed my smile and cocked my head, narrowing my eyes. “He is,” I said deliberately. “I should point out it’s not a good thing.”

Ignoring my implied threat, he continued. “How old are you? Do you go to school nearby?”

“Whatever,” I growled as I slid the baton shut and closed my masked eyes to center my thoughts. Boldly dropping into the crowd below and retrieving the phone, as rewarding as that might be, wasn’t a viable option; but I wasn’t able to sidestep my anxiety that Marinette was hurt or had been harmed in some way when she had lost it. I needed to assume the worst.

I opened my feline eyes and fixed them on the Bakery. The first step was to find out where she had gone, and those answers _had_ to be there. Getting them would require leaning into my Black Cat bag of tricks.


	45. Flash of Inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat needs to get to the bottom of Marinette’s disappearance, and calls in some friends for support._

I needed a distraction, and I knew exactly who’d be able to do it. 

Skulking back into the shadows, I popped open my baton and speed-dialed Alya. Her image appeared on the small screen almost immediately. “Chat?” she asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Marinette appears to be boxed in by paparazzi,” I said, “and one of them has her phone. I need to get into the Bakery to see if she’s okay, but I need an assist. Please tell me Ladybug left you your Miraculous...?”

Alya smiled. "You're in luck. Both of us have them,” she said, and Nino squeezed into the shot. “Could you use both of us?”

“Maybe. Meet me on the other side of the park as quickly as you can.”

I clicked off and leapt into the night to the building behind me and then ran around the rooftops of the block closest to the park next to the Bakery. I managed to keep a low enough profile to avoid being noticed by the photographers stationed at the entrance closest to the store, and landed on the sidewalk far from the encampment.

Rena and Carapace appeared a few minutes later, dropping in beside where I was leaning against the wrought iron fence, twirling my tail thoughtfully. “Chat,” Rena nodded.

“Hey guys,” I replied. “I’m probably overreacting, but she was supposed to meet me earlier. When she didn’t show I got worried and found this mess.”

Rena looked pointedly at me and started to say something. I held up my paws. “Yes, I will stipulate my stupidity on social media led to this.” I sighed. “I’m already beating myself up over it.”

Rena’s expression softened. “Well,” she smiled good naturedly. “Now that you know to leave it to us professionals...”

Cap snorted. “Until you start pulling down a paycheck, dearest, I’m not sure—oof!” he gasped as Rena nailed him in the side with her flute.

I thought it best not to wade into that discussion. “So, I have an idea...” I started.

Not long afterward, I was back on my original rooftop, feline ears and eyes slightly above the parapet. My earwig was in. “In position,” I said quietly. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready,” Rena said. 

“I’m almost there,” Cap replied. “Some of us still have trouble climbing buildings.”

I stifled my impatience and waited, tail tapping behind me in annoyance. Just as I was about to ask Cap again, he piped up. “Ready.”

My feline ears heard Rena’s flute, and I turned my attention to the rooftop patio. A moment later, Chat Noir dropped onto the roof and I heard the photographers below me start to click their cameras. My doppelgänger peered over the edge and saluted.

“Nice touch, Rena,” I said.

“Thank you,” she laughed.

Faux Chat ducked down into the skylight before returning with Marinette. Hopping onto the railing, he waved to the crowd again and took off with one arm around Marinette. I was impressed at how detailed Rena was getting with her illusions.

Pulling myself up a bit more, I saw the photographers below me start to race to their various vehicles to pursue the mirage. Baton in hand, I speed-dialed Marinette and carefully watched for one particular individual to pause and retrieve Marinette’s phone. I was reasonably certain I had picked him out a fraction of a second before a lanky man with sunglasses in his hair paused, one hand on his scooter, to dig a phone out of his pocket.

“Got ya,” I growled as I clicked off and swung over the edge.

Swan diving, I extended the baton out and landed easily next to him. Resisting the temptation to backhand him off his scooter with a paw, I instead grabbed the phone from him before saluting and rising up into the sky on my baton.

“Hey - wait! It’s Chat!” the stunned photographer cried out. “Stop! He’s here!” he continued, but his colleagues had already begun their pursuit. 

I assumed he’d remain, but ignored him as I dropped over the edge and onto the patio. Two steps and I was at the skylight; I pulled it open and dropped into Marinette’s bedroom. “Princess?” I called out. “Marinette?”

I cocked a feline ear, but didn’t hear her or her family.

“Is she there?” Rena asked.

“I don’t know,” I said as I pulled open the trapdoor and started down into the main part of the house. Skulking along on all fours, I sniffed the air but came up empty – Marinette _had_ been here, but not recently. “She was here,” I said. “I can pick up her scent.”

“Front is clear save for that scraggily-haired guy,” Cap said. “I’m coming up the back now. Be in shortly.”

“Copy,” I said as I skulked down the steps, carefully extending all of my feline senses as far as I could. As I neared the apartment’s kitchen, I could get Tom and Sabine’s distinctive notes (cinnamon for Tom, orchids for Sabine) and that faint whisper of Marinette I’d been tracing. But I wasn’t hearing anything, and that made me really concerned. “Kitchen is empty,” I said, trying to keep my voice level.

“I’m in the bedroom now,” Cap responded. “Wait up and we’ll go down to the bakery together.”

“Copy. Rena?”

“I’ve lured them as far away as I can,” she said, “but I’m running low on time. Once the mirage gives up, they’ll be on your doorstep in less than ten minutes.”

“Thanks. Recharge and get back here if you can.”

“I will.”

Carapace appeared next to me and crouched beside me. “Are they hiding?” he asked. “To get away from the photographers?”

“Maybe,” I said. “They keep flour in the basement, we’ll check that after the bakery,”

“Let’s do it.”

Carefully, I moved to the door and cracked it open; the scent trail was getting stronger, but that only meant they had definitely gone this way. My anxiety dropped a bit though as the overlapping scent trails increased in strength as we closed in on the back door to the Bakery.

I tried the door and it was unlocked; slowly, I swung it open to find all the lights on and items in various stages of preparation in the small kitchen off to the side of the oven. The cash register was still on, too, ready and waiting for the next customer. The front door was ajar, and I was reasonably certain I knew who had left it open.

Creeping in, baton in hand, I called out softly: “Marinette?”

“Chat,” Carapace said urgently.

I turned, and he was pointing to a sideboard. Sabine’s purse was there, and both her and Tom’s phones sat side by side. It didn’t take much to assume Marinette’s had been there, too. Just beyond the counter was the door to basement; three fifty-pound bags of flour were stacked next to it, but two more had slid in front of the door. “Give me a hand,” I said as I stowed my baton and took one side of the flour. 

Cap and I both grunted slightly despite our super-strength but nonetheless cleared the door quickly. I tried not to yank it off the hinges (too much) when I opened it and fairly yelled: “Mari!”

“Chat?” I heard. “Chat! Down here!”

I vaulted down the steps to the landing, turned, and leapt down the final steps to the concrete floor. Tom, Sabine and Marinette were huddled around a large bag of marshmallows but I only had eyes for my girlfriend, who I scooped into my hands and hugged closely. “You have no idea how worried I’ve been,” I said as I buried my face in her hair.

“I knew you’d come,” she said. “Once I missed my window to meet you tonight.”

“What happened?”

Tom laughed a bit. “Our flour order came in today and we were putting it away. Each of us had one, but while we were re-stacking them, the inventory shifted and blocked the door.”

“We couldn’t budge it,” Marinette said as she pulled back to look at me. “Some of us don’t have super strength,” she laughed.

I nodded, knowing that she’d not been able to transform. “Well, the paparazzi outside noticed something; at least one of them did, and took the opportunity of your disappearance to lift your phone.” I slid it out of my costume pocket, “It took an immense amount of willpower not to kick his---”

“Thank you,” Marinette said pointedly, cutting me off.

Behind me, Carapace was helping Tom and Sabine back up the steps, leaving the two of us alone. I waited another beat before kissing her deeply. “Never, ever put your phone down. Ever.”

“Yes, Mon Chat,” she laughed with a two fingered salute. “I am sorry to make you worry, though.”

“I know,” I said, hugging her closer. “What’s worse is that mess of photographers out front. That’s on me.”

“They’ll go away eventually.”

Something struck me. “Maybe... maybe, we can speed things up a bit.”

Marinette smiled. “You have that look,” she laughed.

“What look?”

“The one where you’re about to pounce on an akuma and take it out with your Cataclysm.”

I narrowed my masked eyes. “That sounds just about right. Now, here’s what I’m thinking...”


	46. Cleanup, Aisle One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat and the rest of Team Miraculous decide to tackle the photographers that are plaguing Marinette and the Bakery – as only they can._

I waited for my prey atop a streetlight.

It was rare for people to look up, something I had learned fairly early in my tenure as Chat. It made typical surveillance activities a bit easier; more so on evenings like tonight, when the sky was overcast and therefore inky black, allowing me to seamlessly blend into the space as if I weren’t there. And if someone _did_ happen to look up, they may or may not briefly catch my quasi-glowing eyes. I’d only been tripped up once, when an akuma happened to see the edge of my tail just below the cowl of the lamp.

I’d been much more careful ever since.

Ladybug had called in everyone; Master Fu had not protested, either, as he, too, had grown tired of the attention the Bakery was drawing and the difficulty it created for Marinette to escape when duty called. Members of Team Miraculous had taken up their various positions throughout Paris and had radioed in one by one over our private comm system. My plan was fairly simple: our intent was to return the favor, especially to one particular paparazzi we were reasonably certain had lifted Marinette’s phone from the Bakery.

My feline ears twitched at the approach of a very specific scooter, and a moment later, the scraggily-bearded photographer I had seen on my baton phone rounded the corner, sunglasses still perched atop his mass of hair. I found myself smiling dangerously as I watched it sail beneath me before leaping to the next lamppost, and then the next, keeping a discreet distance from my quarry. It didn’t appear to be strictly necessary, however; despite being a photographer, the guy didn’t appear to be very observant of his surroundings.

Still, my run-ins with akumas had taught me to plan for everything, so I remained cautious and vigilant – and out of sight.

Shutterbug (as I decided to call him) coasted to a stop at an intersection, and frowned. As well as he should, for it was actually a mirage Rena had cast. Smiling, I quietly landed on the streetlight closest to the action and settled in for the show.

Perplexed at the length of the light, Shutterbug began tapping his soft-soled shoe against the pavement. As he looked to his left, a tiny portal irised open, and the torso of Pegasus appeared. Shutterbug turned directly into a flash from a camera; before he realized what had happened, both the portal and the intersection disappeared. 

“Got it,” Pegasus said. “Give me a few minutes.”

“Copy that,” I said over the earwig. Pegasus’s alter-ego was a brilliant programmer and (maybe) a bit of a hacker, and had promised to get an ID for us if we could get a clear photo. With Rena’s help, he just had. “Prey is on the move again,” I said, as Shutterbug pulled away.

I continued to trail the scooter until I handed of to Viperion, who was waiting on a rooftop near the Arc. I peeled off and cut a diagonal pathway toward the Tour Montparnasse. It took a few moments for me to reach the rooftop, where I perched in the general direction of Viperion’s flashing logo on my tracker. “Got anything for me, Pegasus?”

“Yeah, Chat.” There was a pause and then: “François Le Tour is our mark,” he said. “Forwarding the current address to everyone… now.”

I shifted screens on my baton and smiled as a new dot appeared on a different map. “Okay, friends. Let’s shift to phase two.”

“On our way,” I heard from Ladybug.

“I’m nearly there. I’ve picked out a nice chimney,” Carapace said.

As I leapt off the tower and batoned my way to the next rooftop to start running, I laughed. “You’re not usually a chimney kind of turtle, Cap.”

“He’s warming up to them,” Rena laughed. “I’m recharged and moving into position.”

“Pegasus?”

“I need to feed my kwami. Give me five.”

“Take your time,” I said I as closed in on the tall apartment building. “I suspect my prey is not going anywhere.”

“He’s not just _yours_, Chat,” Ladybug reminded me.

“Maybe not, but I get first whack at him,” I said pointedly as I vaulted over an alleyway and continued to jog along the spine of the next building. 

“Chat, that’s _not_ what we discussed. Don’t make this personal.”

“_He_ made it purrsonal when he took your phone, Milady,” I growled, my anger at the invasion of her personal life suddenly bubbling to the surface. “It needs to stop.”

“Chat,” Ladybug said in the tone that I knew meant business. “Pull over and wait for me.”

“I’m nearly there---”

“Stand _down_, kitty,” she said forcefully. “Viperion is still a few minutes out.”

Steam coming out of my feline ears, I nonetheless complied, skidding to a rubbery stop at the edge of the roof I was currently on. I perched on the edge and waited, ears flattened and tail twisting angrily at being thwarted in the pursuit of my prey. Ladybug arrived a few moments later and had the good sense to drop in a fair distance behind me. 

Only then did a bolt of guilt shoot through me at the thought she was worried enough I’d turn on her and had planned accordingly. I sighed and closed my masked eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “This isn’t me.”

“I know, kitty,” she said as she stepped carefully toward me. 

“I’m angry. Angry that I started this whole mess. Angry that Shutterbug breached your privacy the way he did.” I hung my head, bangs falling forward as I did so and sighed again.

“What you were contemplating doing is _not_ how we handle things, Chat,” she said as she stepped next to me and put her hand on my shoulder. Her other hand went to my chin and lifted it so I could look into her masked blue eyes. “We do this this _right_, otherwise we’re no better than the people we’re angry with.”

“I won’t deny smacking him around a bit isn’t appealing to me,” I warned her.

Running a hand through my mane, she said gently, “We’ll make our point. But I need to know you can keep to the script, Chat.”

I smiled at her. “Can I scratch him? Just a little?”

“No, kitty,” Ladybug said sternly, but I saw the smile tugging at her lips. 

“Can I Cataclysm his camera, at least?”

“Maybe,” she allowed, “but only if you are a good kitty.”

Viperion broke in at that point. “Prey is parking his scooter. I’m headed to position.”

“That’s our cue,” Ladybug said. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

She kissed me quickly on the cheek and then together we leapt over the edge of the building; in short order, we’d landed side-by-side on the rooftop of a nondescript apartment block in one of the seedier neighborhoods of Paris. Ironically, it fit my image of who this person was – or, as Ladybug would likely have corrected me, the image of the person I wanted him to be. For we knew from all of our fights against Hawkmoth, the very dangerous akumas we faced were often ordinary Parisians who had experienced the ultimate bad day.

Staying crouched, I dropped to all fours and quickly leaned into my feline senses. I had already pinned down the scent for this particular rapscallion, and the faint notes of cheap cigarettes and cheaper wine wafted toward me from a decorative skylight a few meters from us. I motioned for Ladybug and the two of us scampered noiselessly toward it, leaning away at the last minute when a light from below burst into being.

Carefully, I peered over the edge of the encasement, barely clearing my masked eyes and feline ears. The glass was relatively clean and I had a clear view into a spacious loft apartment. A small kitchenette was on one end, a bed and desk on the other. A door beside the bed was slightly ajar, and my superior feline vision picked up the shadow of movement beyond it.

“Appears to be in his bathroom,” I whispered, looking to Ladybug.

She nodded. “Rena, join us please,” she said as I prepped a claw.

“On my way,” she replied over the earwig.

Carefully, I took a claw and scribed around the edges of one of the larger panes in the skylight; I managed to slide it out of the frame noiselessly once the glazing had released and placed it gingerly against the brick wall beside the rooftop stairwell entrance. The slot was just wide enough for me to slip through and drop with a quiet _thud_ on the floor in a crouch; I rolled out of the way and behind a small couch in what passed for the living room, allowing Ladybug to land gingerly in my spot.

Scanning the space, and keeping a feline ear on the bathroom, I whispered: “Pegasus, what am I looking for?”

“Desktop or laptop,” he said, “but even a small router will do. Anything with USB access.”

My feline eyes hit on a MacBook over on the desk. “Got it,” I whispered before looking to Ladybug. “He’s taking a shower,” I said to her.

“Oh dear,” she said quietly as she flipped twice to come up next to the door. “I think this lock is defective,” she added as she carefully pulled the door closed and then wrapped her yo-yo around the handle a number of times.

I vaulted to the desk and leapt on top of it, perching beside the laptop. Unzipping a costume pocket, I produced the small USB drive Pegasus had given me. “Do I need the laptop on?”

“No,” he said. “I’ll boot it remotely.”

“Okay,” I said. It took a moment to rotate the connection enough to get the proper one to insert, made, perhaps, more difficult by having claws. “Got it!”

“Hang on,” he said.

“I’m on the roof,” Rena said. “Oddly, there is a skylight into the bathroom; I’m ready when you are.”

I flicked an ear toward the bathroom. “Any moment now...”

The door rattled. Then it rattled again, harder. “What the hell?” we heard. 

Ladybug was trying hard not to laugh as she pulled effortlessly on her yo-yo.

“I’m in,” he said. “Accessing the files now... yeah, there they are. I’ve got what’s on his laptop and all of the cloud storage too.” He laughed. “It appears _all_ of the photographers use a common cloud service.”

“That works in our favor. Delete anything with Marinette or Team Miraculous,” I said. “Replace them all with... kitty photos,” I said.

“Kitty?” he asked, nonplussed.

Ladybug smiled broadly. “I like it, Chat. Yes, Pegasus. Kitty photos. The cuter the better.”

“All right,” our teammate laughed. “I need six point eight two seven minutes.”

I rolled my eyes and turned to Ladybug, who was starting to work a bit at the door. “We’ve got you covered,” I said. “Rena? A little something to distract our friend in the water closet?”

“Oh, this will be _fun_,” she said.

We heard the flute, and then the pounding at the door ceased and screaming issued forth instead; if my feline hearing wasn’t mistaken, he’d jumped on top of his toilet and was attempting to get onto his sink. “What did you do?”

“Cockroaches,” she laughed. “Millions of them. Seemed appropriate.” 

“If my heart wasn’t already taken, I’d marry you, Rena,” I said.

“Good to know,” she laughed again.

“Done,” Pegasus said. “I’ve also deleted the footage from the hidden cameras in the apartment.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

“There were three. Guess he was a bit paranoid.”

“No kidding,” I said as I unplugged the drive and put it back into my costume pocket. “Milady, time to go, unless I get to beat him up still.”

“Absolutely not,” she said as she unwound her yo-yo and joined me beneath the skylight. 

Tossing her yo-yo up, she put an arm around me and hauled us back to the roof. A few minutes later, I had carefully put the pane back in place, though I had nothing to reseal it with. I decided it was poetic justice and leapt away into the night behind Ladybug.

“Meet me on our rooftop near the Bakery,” she said as she swung through the night beside me. “I need to collect the team’s Miraculouses and then I’ll join you.”

“Okay,” I smiled and shifted direction. I briefly considered waiting for Ladybug to get out of sight and then turn back around and rough up Shutterbug; realistically, I knew Ladybug was right and that wasn’t really who we were. Who I was.

I perched atop the same rooftop I’d been at earlier, though this time I didn’t attempt to conceal myself. I wanted to see what fallout might appear from our actions firsthand and wasn’t disappointed. Within moments of my arrival, phones started going off. 

Frantic conversations happened in parallel, followed by multiple shouted expletives and no small amount of accusations hurled between each of the remaining paparazzi. By the time Ladybug dropped in beside me, the last of the photographers had decamped, somewhat fittingly leaving only trash in their wake.

I looked to my partner as I put a paw around her waist. “Remind me never to get on Pegasus’s bad side,” I laughed. “But we’ll need to thank him. It appears his little virus was successful.”

She nodded. “I wonder how many terabytes of Chat Noir, Ladybug, and the Dupain-Cheng Bakery have been lost to the mists of time as a result,” she said. “But it sends a message.”

“It does.” I smirked as I looked back to the Bakery. “So, may I _finally_ take you home, Milady?”

“Actually, wasn’t I coming to visit you tonight?” she asked, tapping my bell with a gloved finger.

“Yes,” I nodded, popping open the baton to check the time. “And you’re still welcome to. Though there’s not much left of it at this point.”

“What else is new.” She leaned up to kiss me. “Okay, let’s go. One round of video games and then I’m out.”

“One round?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “I’ll bet you won’t stop once we get going, Milady.”

“We’ll see,” she said as she tossed her yo-yo to the sky. “Last one to the mansion has to use the bad controller,” she challenged as she sailed off into the night.


	47. Mistletoe Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’m in a holiday mood, so a few weeks of Christmas cheer as Chat and Marinette make plans to celebrate together – for any Christmas with her is better than the alternative._

It was a few weeks from Christmas, and I was in the final throes of the semester, studying for finals. Normally, I’d have been ensconced over at the Bakery with Marinette, but she seemed to think I’d be a bit distracting for some reason and had sweetly asked me to hold off from visiting until finals were over. I’d been quite bummed, actually, but she had softened the blow with a massive care package of goodies from the Bakery and a promise I could spend as much time as I wanted there once school was out for the remainder of the year.

Plagg was perched on my desk, munching on his cheese and looking over my calculus notes. For reasons he kept to himself, he appeared to be a master of the subject. While he’d been rather evasive when pressed on how he’d _gained_ his knowledge, I’d managed to get enough out of him that led me to believe he may have actually _known_ Isaac Newton. It reminded me once more that I was but one in a long, long line of Miraculous holders, making me vow that someday I’d get my trusty kwami to divulge who had come before me.

Math was one of my stronger subjects, so his rapid-fire questions to see if I recalled this formula or that derivative had been fairly straightforward. Where it had become tricky was when he’d begun dropping problems on me; they’d started easy but had become amazingly difficult. As I tossed my stylus on the desk and rubbed my eyes after solving the final one, I groaned when I realized I’d spent more than two hours on it. 

I narrowed my eyes as I looked down at my tiny feline tutor. “That last one was devious,” I said. 

Plagg was leaning over my tablet and nodding. “Not intentionally,” he murmured. “But congratulations! You’ve successfully landed on the moon.”

“What?” I said, startled.

“It was a beauty of a problem,” he smiled as he settled back on top of my computer speaker. “My holder at the time worked at NASA in Houston. She was brilliant.”

I stared at him. “Wait, what?”

“They didn’t have computers like you know them back then,” he said. “It took a team of people to figure out how to shape the math so it would work with the mainframe; that problem you just solved? It stumped some of the best minds for weeks.”

I continued to stare at him. “Your holder... was a woman?” I asked.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “_That’s_ what you’re focusing on?”

“I just assumed--”

“Incorrectly,” Plagg laughed. “Okay, ready for the next round?”

“I need a break,” I said, looking at him meaningfully.

My kwami rolled his eyes again. “Seriously? Most kids your age just play a video game to relax.”

I arched my eyebrow. “I’m not ‘most kids,’” I reminded him.

“You need a hobby Adrien. Why can’t you bake, like Marinette?”

“What a great idea,” I said, smiling a Chat smile at him.

Plagg’s eyes went wide. “That’s not--”

“Plagg -- claws out!”

As the wave of transformation washed over me, Plagg protested all the way into the ring; I tried not to smile, for he was correct in surmising I was off to the Bakery. I knew I needed a break, and I was certain my Princess did, too. When the green glow faded, I pushed back from my desk and leapt over my couch, landing in the open window.

And there I paused; usually, as Chat, I generally had a more flexible outlook on rules than my alter-ego, so dashing off to visit with Marinette would firmly have been in-bounds for me. But as I had grown into my role, and grown into my relationship with Ladybug, I had to admit I was becoming a more responsible feline. She’d asked me to let her have some study time, and as much as I wanted to breach that request, I needed to respect that.

I dropped my head as I perched on the windowsill, tapping my tail thoughtfully against the wall. It wasn’t unheard of for Chat to visit my best friend, Nino; without calling ahead, though, he was likely to be with Alya, and I had no desire to be a third wheel, superhero or not. And though I’d become closer with Luka, it felt wrong to pop in unannounced – especially as Chat; as I went further down the list of my friends, I realized just about everyone was probably studying, or with someone already and didn’t need an overgrown cat underfoot.

For once, I found myself suited up with no place to go.

I cast a long glance back at my desk and the waiting calculus, balanced out the equation in my feline brain and then turned to leap out into the evening. A quick spin around my favorite stops in Paris wouldn’t take more than an hour, and I knew I’d feel refreshed enough to tackle the final items I needed to know cold before the final in the morning.

Halfway through my grand circle tour of the City of Lights, my feline hearing picked up a very particular _ziiiing_ that had started to keep pace with me. Smiling to myself, I skipped the next stop on my itinerary and instead altered course for the Eiffel Tower. Putting some of that calculus to good use, I deftly used my final baton move to arc myself into the air, landing halfway up one of the four legs of the Tower. Leaping from beam to beam, I made short work of climbing into the aerie I’d discovered a long time ago; stowing my baton, I folded myself into my patented patient cat stance and waited.

I wasn’t alone long, for the lithe figure of my partner swung up to the crossbeam I was on and landed gently next to me. “Hey kitty,” she smiled as she sat down and snuggled in next to me. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

“I am,” I replied as I wrapped a paw around her torso and slid her even closer. “But I fear Plagg has overworked my brain cells. I needed a break.”

Ladybug nodded into my shoulder. “That’s funny! Tikki’s been helping me, too. I never thought to ask her before now about being a study buddy. Turns out, she’s pretty good with history – seeing as though she’s lived through most of it.”

I laughed. “Plagg seems to have been around for some critical discoveries as well,” I added. “But I think he secretly enjoys torturing me, especially with math problems.” I looked at her sidelong. “I was desperate enough for a break that I nearly broke my promise to give you some peace and quiet.”

Ladybug snuggled closer. “I’m proud of you for keeping to it, kitty,” she said. “But you want the truth? As good as Tikki has been, I miss having you there, tapping your tail as you work through something.” She sighed. “I thought your antics would keep me from focusing, but as it turns out, you’re the perfect partner there, too. You know when to help keep me on track, and when,” she laughed, “it’s time to take a break.”

“Especially for feeding time,” I reminded her.

“Especially that,” she agreed with a chuckle.

We sat for a bit looking at the sparkling city lights and my thoughts drifted back to my first Christmas as Chat and the near disaster with Santa Claus. “Do you think we’ll see him again this year?” I asked Ladybug.

“Who?” she said, pulling herself out of her reverie.

“Santa.”

She turned to me. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “He does seem to get into trouble, though, so we should probably be ready.”

“Twice now,” I said. “And can I just admit to a smidge of jealousy that you were at the top of his list?”

Ladybug laughed. “I was just as surprised as you,” she replied, “for until that moment, I didn’t even think he was real.”

“I didn’t say I was surprised,” I teased, “for you’re at the top of _all_ of my lists. Just jealous that you beat me.”

“I beat you at a lot of things,” she joshed.

“Video games don’t count,” I countered good naturedly. “But I will happily stipulate to being totally comfortable as number two.”

Ladybug leaned up and tapped my bell. “You’re number one on _my _list,” she reminded me.

“And that’s the only one I care about,” I said as I tapped my masked nose to hers and then tasted her lips for a few moments.

Actually, it was longer than that, for when we finally pulled apart and looked at our respective phones, we’d been gone much more than the hour I’d originally planned on. Groaning as I put back my baton, I ruefully said: “I’ve got to get back. Calculus waits for no cat.”

Ladybug sighed as she pulled away from me and we both stood. “New rule,” she said as she readied her yo-yo. “After tomorrow’s final, we study together.”

My eyes narrowed with a smile. “I’m going to hold you to that, Milady.”

“I would expect nothing less,” she replied. “Also – you’re coming for Christmas Day.”

I blinked. “I’m what?”

“Coming. Brunch, presents, dinner. All day.”

“With your family?” I blinked again. “Really?”

“Yes, silly kitty,” she laughed as she ran a finger along my mask. “I’m well aware that Christmas will last less than ten seconds in the Agreste Mansion. I expect you to escape as soon as you can to join us.”

I knew I was wearing a goofy smile. “Your wish is my command, Milady,” I said. “And I can’t tell you how much that means to me. Since my mother—”

“I know, kitty,” she said softly. “It’s time you had a true Christmas again.”

I cocked my head. “Your parents are okay with a superhero coming for dinner?”

“It was my mother’s idea in the first place.”

“I knew I loved her,” I gushed.

Ladybug smiled wider. “That settles it, then. I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

“Of course,” I replied, still wearing my goofy grin; I was afraid that if I looked down, I’d see my boots were floating above the metal.

“Until then, Chaton,” she breathed as she leaned in for a final kiss and then leapt off the tower.

I watched her polka-dotted form disappear into the night and leapt in the opposite direction, heart filled with joy and anticipation for the twenty-fifth of December. For even though it would be a brief period of time, I was going to be part of a family again – one that wanted me.

There were no words for how happy that made me feel.


	48. Merry Chatmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s Christmas, so I’ve banished Hawkmoth for a bit in order to provide you a double-sized portion of pure, unadulterated snow-white fluff for this chapter as Chat experiences a true holiday with a caring family. _

It was snowing once more in Paris on Christmas Eve as Ladybug and I landed on our final rooftop of the evening. After last Christmas’s escapades with Santa, we’d decided it would be prudent to be out and about on the off-chance Hawkmoth turned his attention to the jolly old elf, but it turned out to be a peacefully quiet evening. The deep coating of snow blanketing Paris had muted the usual noises of the night, making the hushed calm all the more pronounced. Lights twinkled in windows no matter what direction I turned, and wondrous scents from various kitchens reached my feline nose – and made my equally as feline tummy growl at being empty after the night’s activities. I presumed Plagg felt the same way, and silently promised him a generous wedge of Camembert once we were back at the mansion.

Ladybug was standing in front of me, her back pressed into my chest; my arms were enveloping her in a gentle hug. “I could exist in this moment,” she said with a sigh. “You, me, the fresh dusting of snow. It’s holiday perfect.”

I gently placed my chin on her head. “Purrfect,” I repeated as I purred out the syllables. “I am not going to sleep a wink tonight,” I added as I reached up to flick a stray snowflake from her pigtail.

“Me either,” she chuckled. “And given the sounds coming from your stomach, it will be time well spent.”

I craned my neck around to her. “Wait, what? Are you baking all night?”

“Yep,” she smiled. “It’s traditional. Besides, you eat enough for two, so…”

“I do _not_,” I said defensively, knowing it was, in fact, actually true.

“Anyway,” she said as she swung herself out from me and kissed my lips quickly. “I should go. Be to the Bakery as early as you can.”

“I will,” I said with a Chat smile.

That gave her pause. “What are you cooking up, Chat?” she asked, narrowing her eyes and placing her hands on her hips. “Don’t get yourself into trouble.”

“I won’t,” I smiled wider. “But what you don’t know can’t hurt you.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Now I’m worried for sure,” she said as she pulled out her yo-yo and sailed away into the snowy night.

I waited a few moments before leaping away toward the mansion, arriving in my bedroom just a few minutes before midnight. Crouched in the middle of my bedroom, I automatically shook off the snow that had accumulated on my mane before realizing I’d sent waves of melted snow to the four corners of my room. Despite the saving grace that the cleaning staff had the next day off, I nonetheless vaulted into my bathroom to grab a towel to wipe down as much as I could. I’d nearly gotten all of it when my feline ears picked up footsteps from the main hall.

I froze. 

I’d been fairly stealthy but hadn’t been as careful as normal and must have attracted the attention of someone downstairs – the most likely candidate being my bodyguard. Except, as my feline ears continued to twitch, I realized at this hour, he’d normally be in his room up on the _third_ floor.

Warning bells started going off and I vaulted toward my bedroom door, then pressed a feline ear to it. Sure enough, I could hear booted feet down on the marble, though they didn’t appear to be coming up the steps. Curious, and concerned, I cracked open the door as silently as I could and cautiously sniffed, tail arching into a question mark.

Immediately, the scent of candy canes, milk and cookies flooded my senses, and I smiled, for it had a very familiar ring to it. Carefully, I slid the door open further and skulked out to the mezzanine, all of my feline senses on full alert. Slowly I poked my mane over the railing.

Below me, Santa Claus was bent over his massive red bag, rooting around for something. He paused, and I immediately shrunk back, but not before his infectious laugh rang out. “Come on out, Chat,” he said. “I’m not a secret to you any longer.”

Placing a paw on the railing, I flipped over and landed in my pounce-crouch beside his bag; as I sailed to the ground, I’d scanned the space and couldn’t see how he’d managed to get into the house. “Santa,” I smiled, though I kept slightly tensed. “Making your rounds?”

“Of course,” he laughed as he stood up, a small package in one gloved hand. “I make it a point to visit all of the children on my list on Christmas Eve; you of all people should know that.”

I nodded. “That I do,” I replied, smiling a Chat smile. “Ladybug and I were out earlier, just in case you ran into any trouble. We didn’t see you, though,” I apologized, “otherwise, we’d still be out there.”

Santa let out a massive _ho-ho-ho_ that lead to that laugh again, and I shot a glance at the light emanating from beneath the door to the atelier, worried that Father might hear. “I don’t usually get going until midnight, Chat,” he laughed again. “I appreciate your concern. But it’s been a quiet run so far.”

“I’m happy to tag along for a bit if you want,” I offered. “Just in case.”

“No need,” he laughed again. “Besides, you have to be up early to get to Marinette’s home.”

My masked eyes widened. “How—”

He simply tapped his nose with a gloved finger, and then laughed again before handing me the box. “This is for you,” he said.

“Me?” I said, shocked, as I took the package. “Uh,” I said, face flaming as I saw the tag said, indeed, _Chat Noir_. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“This is your home, isn’t it?” he smiled.

“No!” I said quickly, face flaming further as I darted another glance toward the atelier.

Santa smiled and nodded. “My mistake, then,” he laughed again. “But I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve also left another gift under the tree for the child who _does_ live here,” he added, tapping his nose again. “Make sure he gets it, would you?”

“I will,” I said, fearing my crimson face was spilling all of my secrets. In my defense, it _was_ freaking Santa Claus there in my home, standing next to the tree.

“Oh – and give this to Ladybug when you see her later,” he said suddenly as he reached in and grabbed another small box.

I accepted it solemnly. “Absolutely,” I promised, noting her box was red with a black ribbon, where mine had been black with a green ribbon. Without thinking, I put both boxes aside and reached up to hug the old guy. “Thank you. From both of us,” I said, winking.

“You’re welcome, Chat,” he said. “And congratulations, by the way.”

I arched a masked eyebrow. “Thanks… but for what?”

Santa leaned down. “You were number two on the list this year,” he said quietly.

“I should hope so,” I smiled. “Ladybug’s gone way above and beyond—”

“As have you,” Santa said. “So, as a result, I’ve decided to grant you your wish.”

“My… wish?” I said, dumbstruck. 

“Yes,” he laughed again. “It’s about to be delivered, though, so you might want to get back upstairs. And hide those feline ears of yours.”

“But—”

“No buts. Take those boxes and _go_,” he said firmly.

Grabbing both boxes, I hurled myself up the staircase, then vaulted into my bedroom. As I closed the door, I heard a commotion from the atelier and hurried toward my bed, dropping my transformation as I dove under the covers – hiding the boxes under the bed as I landed.

Less than a minute later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. “Adrien?”

I mussed up my hair a bit. “Yeah?”

The door opened, spilling light from the atrium into my darkened room; Nathalie came around the divider. Despite the unholy hour, she was as put together as always, though I thought I’d also heard her cough slightly before entering.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” she said in that expressionless voice of hers. “Your father has to go to Hong Kong immediately, and will likely be gone through the new year. Your bodyguard was supposed to have the holiday off, but we are recalling him now—”

“Don’t do that,” I said quickly, smiling. “I can stay with Marinette and her family.”

Nathalie looked at me and started to say something.

“Don’t ruin his holiday,” I pleaded with Nathalie. “He deserves the time off.”

She looked at me longer before nodding slowly. “I’ll tell your father. Pack what you need, and I’ll drop you off on our way to the airport.”

“On it,” I said as I slid out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, pausing at the door to wait for her high heels to fade away before doubling back to retrieve my cell phone. Marinette picked up on the first ring. 

“Adrien?” she said, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you still up?”

“I am, and you are never gonna believe what just happened…”

* * *

Less than thirty minutes later, I was standing in front of the Dupain-Cheng bakery, waving to Nathalie and Father as they screamed away in the sedan. Marinette had snuck out to meet me, and as soon as the car was out of sight, the two of us hustled to the side alley so I could transform – for as far as her parents knew, it was Chat Noir who was suddenly an extended houseguest. I wasn’t entirely certain how we were going to pull that off, exactly, but first Plagg, and then Marinette, had convinced me we could.

Once the green glow of transformation had faded, we continued to the residence entrance and she helped me schlep my duffle bag into the apartment. Sabine and Tom were hard at work, filling the tiny kitchen with wondrous smells; save for a quick hug from her mom, we were shushed out of the space and told to get some rest. Marinette tried to protest, but it fell upon deaf ears.

I trailed her up the steps to the next floor, and the spare bedroom they had prepared for me at the far end of the hallway. It was tiny (massively tiny, compared with my space at the mansion) but I immediately fell in love with every square meter of it. The small twin bed had a cat-themed comforter pulled back to expose the generously sized pillow. A small dresser was nestled into the angular space next to an oversized window that fronted the park; I smiled, for it was big enough for me to slide out of as Chat as needed. I harbored no illusions that Hawkmoth would give us the time off.

“Thank you,” I said as I kissed Marinette. 

“I’m still impressed that Santa came through like that,” she said.

“Me too,” I smiled. “It’s quite honestly a dream come true.” I laughed slightly, though, as I waved my paws over my costume. “Although I didn’t expect to have to stay transformed for the entire break.”

“Says the boy who finds _any_ excuse to stay transformed,” Marinette laughed.

I felt my cheeks flaming slightly. “Well… still. Plagg hasn’t had to be called to that sort of duty before.”

Marinette smiled. “Don’t worry,” she said as she placed a hand on my bicep. “Tikki and I have a plan for that. We’ll get Plagg some downtime when my parents are distracted.” 

“Good,” I laughed, “and I packed plenty of his super-expensive cheese, too.”

Despite it being close to one at that point, neither one of us felt like grabbing any shuteye, so Marinette and I relocated to her room and fired up her Xbox. She took it to me for the first hour, but by the end of the second, I’d managed to claw back some dignity. At some point, however, I fell asleep, only to awaken some hours later protectively curled around Marinette.

Carefully, I slid out from my position, then quietly luxuriated in a full feline stretch to get the kink out of my back. As stealthily as my full abilities allowed, I snuck down the trapdoor and hurried to my room. Once inside, I leaned against the closed door and breathed quietly: “Plagg – claws in.”

The green wave of transformation washed over me and my kwami floated up, yawning. “Hey kid,” he said with (for him) what passed as a warm smile. “Merry Christmas.”

“Same to you,” I smiled before turning to the duffel and presenting him with a massive wheel of the super-aged camembert he loved. It had a small bow and tag with his name on it. “This is for you.”

My eyes widened as Plagg managed to take the _entire_ wheel into his tiny paws. “Thanks, Adrien,” he said, and I thought I saw a small tear forming in one of his feline eyes. “I don’t usually get gifts,” he continued. “And I don’t have anything for you.”

I took the cheese back and put it on the bed before plucking Plagg out of the air to hug him to my chest. “You’ve already given me the best gift anyone could. The freedom to be me,” I said as I let him sit on my outstretched palm after the hug. “And your friendship, even as trying as it sometimes can be.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Plagg replied. Quickly he zipped to the cheese and freed up a slice which was immediately devoured. “Thank you.”

I watched in happy silence as he took two more slices from the wheel and then laid on his back; having known him as long as I had, I was able to detect how slightly distended his tiny tummy was. “I’d like to go look at their tree if you don’t mind,” I asked quietly. “I know I’m asking a lot for you to keep me transformed longer than normal. I promise—”

Plagg cut me off as he flew up to a position in front of me. “Kid, it’s not a problem,” he smiled, and this time, it was a genuine smile. “Of all people, you deserve a solid family holiday. If it means staying cooped up in that ring for a bit longer, it’s worth it.” He paused before zipping in to hug my bicep. “To me.”

“Plagg, I had no idea you felt this way,” I laughed.

He flew back to my face. “And if you _tell_ anyone,” he said, eyes narrowed in an expression I found I mimicked, “I can’t be held responsible for any retribution…”

“Message received,” I laughed again. “Your secret is safe with me. Ready?”

“Yep.”

I re-transformed, grabbed a few more items from my bag and then stealthily snuck down to the family area. A petite tree had been added to the small living room, and though Marinette’s parents had apparently finished in the kitchen, they’d left the tree fully lit. I snuck my gifts in between the other items beneath the tree; I’d brought my own special presents for Marinette and her parents and had mixed them in with Santa’s goodies, and found myself smiling in anticipation of watching everyone open their presents. With nary a rustle, I then folded myself into my patient cat stance on the floor directly in front of the tree.

The tree was so unlike the one at the mansion – the very antithesis, in fact: small, warm and cozy, compared with the austere and yet ostentatiously overwhelming affair Father and Nathalie had put up again this year. I sighed again, relishing in the gift that I had been given, my masked feline eyes tracing every homemade bauble and LED light. One ornament caught my attention in particular, and I snuck a bit closer to the tree to examine it.

It was a small rectangle of cardstock, ringed with a bright ribbon that also served as the hanger, something likely done in preschool, and was a crayon affair. Clearly done by Marinette, it had a small child in purple pigtails holding hands with two grownups – one in dressed in a burly white outfit and chef’s cap, the other, a petite form in an outfit with a stylized flower. I smiled, seeing that even at that young age, my girlfriend had the amazing artistic ability that had only flourished as she’d grown older.

Resting it in a paw, I tapped at it with a claw tip, I felt my eyes welling, for I had something similar back home; it had been the first ornament I put on the tree each year – that is, until Father banned it when Mother went missing. Now it sat in one of my desk drawers, easily gotten to when I needed to remind myself of better days. I let Marinette’s drop back onto the branch and returned to my position on the floor, blinking furiously to clear my vision.

I’m sure how she did it, but Marinette materialized from the shadows at that moment, and gently wrapped an arm around my shaking shoulders. “Go ahead,” she said. “Let it all out. Then we can start anew.”

I have no idea how long I quietly sobbed there, embarrassed at my meltdown and yet relieved to have a literal shoulder to lean on. Once the tears ceased, I remained with my head on Marinette’s shoulder. “You are so lucky,” I said sadly. “To have a whole family. Mine has been broken for some time now.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But that’s not the only family you have, Chat,” she reminded me as she leaned into me. “You’re part of my life – part of my family – now, and all that entails.”

I tapped my tail against her waist and smiled. “Entails indeed,” I smiled. “Are you sure they will accept me?” I asked, turning to her in concern. “They don’t know who I am.”

“All they care about is that you are my boyfriend, and I love you,” she said gently. “That’s enough for them. Someday, we’ll come clean; but for now, it’s enough.”

I sighed and rested my head back against hers, and considered the tree again for a few moments. It represented so much of the future I desperately wanted, and for the first time in my life, I thought I could clearly see a pathway toward it.

Hope swelled in my feline heart.

“I am the luckiest feline in Paris,” I purred. “I hope you know how much this means to me. Your love, sharing Christmas with you and your family: all of it.”

“And I am the luckiest bug,” she replied quietly. “Merry Christmas, kitty.”

“Merry Christmas, Milady.” I leaned down to kiss her. “Merry, merry Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Happy holidays to you and yours – however you celebrate this time of year. --ep_


	49. Going to the Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _With Christmas behind them, Chat gets down to enjoying his brief respite with Marinette and her family. Too bad Hawkmoth has other plans._

Used to being up early, I awoke in my guest bed and stretched in the early morning dimness, careful not to wake my sleeping kwami on the pillow beside me. Leaning on my elbow, I watched him for a few moments, knowing he’d enjoyed the full-day affair that Christmas had been at least as much as I had. My eyes flicked to what was left of the massive wheel of Camembert that had been my gift to him and smiled. An aftereffect of my nearly-constant need to remain transformed while staying at the Bakery meant he’d not been able to snoop and consequently hadn’t located the _second_ wheel I was planning on surprising him with on New Year’s Eve.

My phone indicated it was a little before six, but my semi-augmented human hearing had picked up Marinette’s parents as they’d gone to work far earlier in the main kitchen below. Tantalizing smells were wafting up the stairway, smells that I knew would be readily identifiable once I became Chat again. For now, they lent the space a cozy domesticated feel, something I never enjoyed at the mansion.

Ever.

Sliding carefully from beneath the sheets, I padded over to my duffle and pulled out a fresh set of clothes for the day – not that it was strictly necessary, but I needed to be prepared in case Adrien had to appear somewhere, and it wouldn’t do not to be properly put together. After ensuring Plagg was still soundly asleep, I quietly moved down the hall to the bath and quickly went through my morning routine. I skipped the hair gel as my own private Christmas gift.

Marinette found the transformed me a short time later perched in the open window, taking in the fresh morning air. “Chat?” she said as she knocked on the partially open door.

I turned my masked eyes toward her. “Morning, sunshine,” I smiled as I held out a costumed arm to beckon her over.

“I believe that is my line, kitty,” she smiled as she leaned into my side.

“Purrhaps.” I sighed as I pulled her close. Despite the snow and cold, I’d opened the window fully so I could perch properly, but I knew my girlfriend would get chilled quickly. Letting her go, I reluctantly slid the massive frame closed before leaping to the bed. “What’s on tap for today?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Marinette smiled. “We don’t have to be anywhere or do anything.”

“Unless Hawk—”

Mari put a finger to my lips. “Utter that name again in this household and I can guarantee you won’t get cookies for a month.”

“That’s a serious penalty,” I said through her finger.

“_Compris_?”

Instead of answering, I leaned into my feline abilities and quickly pulled her into me, positioning my lips over hers. “Completely,” I said slyly. 

I didn’t get to make good on my own implied threatened action as my feline hearing heard Sabine coming up the steps. Figuring it might not be wise to have her find her daughter entwined with her feline boyfriend, I quickly separated us before the gentle knock at the door.

“Kids?” Sabine’s smiling face appeared. “I’ve got breakfast ready in the residence; I’ve got to get back down to the store and help Tom with some special orders for New Year’s.”

“Thanks, maman,” Marinette said as we hopped off the bed and followed her mother back to the kitchen. 

My eyes bugged out as I took a seat at the breakfast bar, for Sabine had cooked enough for an army. I turned to tell her so only to see her disappear out the main door of the apartment to head back to the Bakery proper. Looking back at Marinette, masked eyes wide, I asked: “Is she expecting us to eat _all_ of this?”

“No,” Marinette smiled. “Only you,” she teased before adding, “although she has noticed that I’m also eating more than normal. And not gaining any weight.”

I snagged a petite glazed donut. “You need to be careful, Milady,” I cautioned. “My diet is pretty restricted at the mansion, so they’ve not noticed my need for more calories. Your parents are likely to start connecting the dots the longer I eat them out of house and home.”

Marinette frowned. “That’s a good point,” she said as she pulled out her phone. “I have a thought.”

Munching on my third pastry and reaching for the oatmeal, my masked eyes watched her start to speed dial Alya. “Oh?” I asked.

“Yeah…” she started before frowning.

My paw containing a croissant paused halfway to my mouth. “I recognize that look,” I said.

“Yeah. I completely forgot – Alya and Nino are already on their way over. The three of us were going to surprise you at the mansion with brunch and a movie as a late Christmas gift. Assuming, of course, your Father let us take you.”

I smiled. “That’s a great idea!” I said brightly. “So why the long face?”

“We’re taking _Adrien_,” she repeated. “That means _not Chat_.”

“Right,” I agreed, though a bit perplexed. “So I’ll just de-transform and---”

“Kitty, my parents already know about the plan,” she said. “They’ll assume you weren’t part of it and would naturally want to stay here while I’m out.”

“Oh,” I said, suddenly seeing the whole picture. “Still, I don’t really see a problem,” I continued as I tapped a claw on the table. “I mean, there’s no reason that I wouldn’t need to do an unscheduled outing to meet Ladybug, right?” I asked, winking. 

Marinette smiled.

“I’ll get a text message on my baton, apologize to your parents and promise them I’ll be back before dinner,” I continued, “but we’ll have to make sure I leave well before you guys do and return ahead.”

Marinette nodded. “You _are_ getting better at the whole make-a-plan thing, kitty,” she said warmly.

“I’ve had a good teacher.”

“All right,” she smiled.

We waited until Sabine came back up from the Bakery before I went through the charade of checking my baton; waving to the two of them, I scampered up to the rooftop patio and sailed into the crisp morning in a random direction. I knew I had about an hour to kill before meeting the trio at the theater, so I had plenty of time to make for a favorite rooftop that wasn’t all that far away. Still, it didn’t take long to get there, even with a rather circuitous route. 

As I landed, a flock of doves scattered and I stifled a sneeze – and the impulse to chase after them. I had yet to find an allergy solution to feathers and was resigned to sneezing my way through our weekly encounters with Mister Pigeon. Why Hawkmoth kept picking on that poor Monsieur Ramier was beyond both Ladybug and I, though he was keeping us supplied with free ice cream.

I trotted toward a chimney and vaulted upward, landing on the conical aluminum covering. Perched carefully, I dug out my baton and called Marinette. “Chat’s in the sky,” I said.

“Good,” Marinette smiled. “Alya and I will leave in about an hour.”

I arched a masked eyebrow. “What happened to Nino?” I asked.

“Did you have… to pick… such a tall building?” I heard behind me. 

Looking down, I watched Carapace haul himself over the edge of the half-wall I’d easily hurdled earlier. “Cap? What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want you to wait alone,” Marinette’s image smiled.

“And I got the short straw,” Carapace whined from his back. “Turtles don’t climb walls, you know.”

“Not like cats, that’s for sure,” I said as I easily vaulted down to crouch beside my best friend.

“You two behave,” Marinette said. “If you do, the popcorn’s on us.”

“No purromises,” I replied with a wicked gleam to my eye.

My girlfriend rolled her eyes and hung up. I turned back to Cap. “So, what sort of trouble should we get into?”

Cap had rolled into a sitting position and was staring at something over my shoulder. “Maybe that black cloud of smoke over there…?”

I turned and sure enough smoke was billowing fairly close to where the cinema was. “Come on,” I said as I extended my baton.

“Shouldn’t we call Ladybug?”

“There’s no time,” I replied as I launched into the air.

Reluctantly, Carapace followed me, and we dropped together onto the rooftop overlooking the smoking crater of what had been the cinema. A massive sentimonster stood over the ruins, some sort of film projector on a tripod capable of movement. I felt my ears flatten and I moved into a defensive crouch; we’d only recently started to encounter these siblings to akumas, and none had been easy to handle.

“This isn’t good,” I breathed. “You might have been right.”

“About calling Ladybug?” Carapace said from his crouch. “No kidding. We might need everyone for this.”

I nodded and popped open my baton to speed dial Marinette. As her face appeared, though, my feline vision caught movement and I looked up. The sentimonster had unerringly zeroed in on us, and the massive lens for the projector had swiveled in our direction. Purely on instinct, I wrapped my arms around Carapace and vaulted us away from its line of sight.

A beam of light sizzled across the roof where we’d been, leaving a massive scorch mark in its wake. We landed a few meters away and I released Cap so we could leap away once more.

Sensing my intent, Carapace went left and dropped to a lower roof; I vaulted higher, twisted in mid-air and came down behind a portico, narrowly avoiding another shot. Snapping open my baton again, Marinette’s concerned face reappeared.

“What’s going—“

“Sentimonster,” I interrupted. “At the—“

My feline instincts took over and I vaulted away from the portico a fraction of a second before it exploded into thousands of pieces of glass and stone. I hit the wall and leapt into the air, helicoptering over an alley and landed in a crouch beside a dumpster.

A leg of the tripod appeared at the street end of the alley and I scurried deeper, hit the wall at the far end of the space and leapt from ledge to ledge, narrowly avoiding that beam. I attempted to be random in my movements, but it was obvious I only had one exit – up.

Projector-thing made the same assessment and redirected a shot to a window above me; debris flew out and down, knocking me off the wall completely. I tumbled downward and barely got the baton around and extended in time to pogo myself up and out of the alley.

Arcing over the edge of the roof, I dropped to all fours and ran as fast as could. The camera-thing had risen high enough that it took aim once more; I zig-zagged randomly, but it was getting better at ranging. 

I was running out of time and rooftop when I heard Carapace. “Over here!”

Cap was waving me toward an alcove and I redirected toward him. I watched as he counted down the distance; I made a final leap toward him and landed in my crouch beside him.

“Quick – wrap us in Shell-ter!” I cried.

Carapace nodded and started to work his secret power when he vanished in a flash of white light.

Whirling, I caught sight of a small woman dressed in an outdated theater uniform; she was wearing massive goggles and trailed what looked like real thirty-five millimeter film out of a pocket of her jacket. Holding her hands up, I watched as she effortlessly caught a circular film canister that sailed back at her from where Carapace had been standing. 

At least I now had an answer as to who had generated the senitmonster. But I knew I’d be unable to deal with both an akuma _and_ a sentimonster solo. 

Watching me, she smiled, and whipped out the film from her pocket, hurling it toward me in a fluid motion. I sprung from my spot, but the film caught a boot and yanked me back to the tile. I managed to roll out of its embrace and vaulted into the air, only to have one of those damn canisters nail me in the torso mid-leap.

Something sizzled around me, and my vision was temporarily blinded by a flash of light; blinking furiously, it came back a few seconds later. That didn’t stop me from blinking again. And again.

The concerned face of Carapace came into focus, and then his green-gloved hand that helped me up off the cool metal deck plates I’d been kneeling upon. I blinked one more time, finally allowing my brain to register where I was, for it most definitely was _not_ a rooftop in Paris.

We instead stood inside a small alcove just off a larger futuristic-looking office. People in subdued uniforms were moving deliberately across the space, and didn’t seem at all intrigued by the sudden appearance of two animal-themed superheroes in their midst. The hum of machinery created an oddly comfortable background noise, and very technical looking consoles with round displays filled the space, streaming data I couldn’t even begin to fathom.

A tall man with dark hair and a salt-and-pepper mustache was standing beside a small half-arc of a desk just opposite the raised platform we’d appeared on; a woman sat next to him, dressed in the same professional uniform as the man, and was looking a bit worried.

“Admiral!” the man frowned as he briskly walked around the desk. “Those departure orders!” he said angrily, a bit of a Scottish brogue accentuating his ire. “Twelve hours! Starfleet canna be serious!”

Staring at the uniformed man, I glanced sidelong at Carapace. “What movie were you taking me to?” I asked quietly.

Cap looked around at the futuristic space we were in, and like me, through the viewport in the far wall. There were stars out there, twinkling brightly and not obscured by the atmosphere; just off to the side, the partial curve of the Earth was visible as it rotated below us. I could just make out the North American continent, swathed in clouds here and there. It was a phenomenal view, but it was also, most definitely, only one you could see from orbit. 

“It was the fortieth anniversary showing of the first _Star Trek_ movie,” he replied in hushed tones as he turned back to me.

I smiled at him, despite the situation. “The three of you were willing to sit through _The Motion Picture_? For me?”

“What are friends for?” he said softly, returning the smile. “But, Chat… dude… what just happened?”

“Admiral?” the man prompted me again, making me realize he’d been speaking to me for a bit. His anger had faded to something more like concern. “Are ye all right, sir? Ye dinna look so good.”

“I’m fine, Mister Scott,” I said, looking back at Carapace. I’d seen this movie so many times now, I knew the next line by heart. “Why aren’t the _Enterprise_ transporters operating?”

Scotty looked at me for a moment. “A wee problem, sir, just temporary.” He paused again. “Admiral, we’ve just finished eighteen months redesigning and refitting the _Enterprise_! How in the name of Hell do they expect me to get her ready in twelve hours?”

“Take us over, please,” I ordered as we stepped down from the transporter dais.

Scotty nodded and we followed him into a small travel pod. As he closed the doors and fired up the systems, I pulled Carapace to the side. “I think we’re _inside_ the movie,” I said. “Trapped, somehow.”

He followed my gaze forward to the arcing window at the front of the pod as we heard the pod undock; slowly, then picking up speed, we started to fly toward the massive drydock in the distance. Bits and pieces of light spilled from around the delicate looking latticework, and from this angle, I couldn’t make out what was inside. Not that it mattered, for I was well aware of what waited for us, and beyond _that_, what was awaiting the _Enterprise_ and her crew.

I couldn’t fathom how Hawkmoth could turn this to his advantage, unless this particular akuma was capable of changing the way the movie played out. Since we were definitely _not_ standing on a movie set, I was willing to bet that was the case; and, seeing as though we were quite clearly sailing through space at the moment, it made real the prospect actual harm could befall us. It was a plus in our column that I knew the story inside and out – something old Hawky wouldn’t have known. 

Glancing down to my glowing ring, I was starting to suspect how _this_ version of the movie would end, though, should Hawkmoth have his way.

“_Inside_ the movie?” Carapace asked as he turned back to me, eyes wide. “How do we get out, then?”

“I don’t know, Cap,” I said. “I honestly don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Special Note:_
> 
> _Ep: You’ll have to forgive me this blending of two universes that I adore. But first, an explanation. I’ve been working on the sequel for _The Keys to Paris_, and while I thought I had a pretty cool idea, I wasn’t entirely sure if I could make it work – nor if I could make the sequence of events to get Chat and company aboard the _Enterprise_ believable within the framework of the MLB universe. So, lucky WCBHKH reader, you’re inadvertently part of my beta test for what might happen in that story. _
> 
> _Chat Noir: Hey, I’m in._
> 
> _Ep: I know, you’ve been begging for this since _Sweethearts Ball_._
> 
> _CN: (narrows masked eyes dangerously) I don’t beg._
> 
> _Ep: Right. Anyway, I’m also coming up on two milestones – 100k words and the first anniversary of starting this story. While these versions of the characters remain my favorite in the stable of what I’ve written so far---_
> 
> _CN: (masked eyes wide) Why does this sound like a eulogy? Are you killing me off?_
> 
> _Ep: No – nothing like that. I’m just considering moving on to some of the other ideas in my brain’s MLB pipeline. _
> 
> _CN: _
> 
> _Ep: Chat? Are you okay? _
> 
> _CN: I don’t know. You tell me._
> 
> _Ep: Would you mind stepping away from my laptop? It cost me a fortune the last time you tried to tap out an email with your claws._
> 
> _CN: Did it? I’d forgotten…_
> 
> _Ep: ANYway, I’ve got a few more chapters planned that will carry us through to the one-year anniversary of the start of WCBHKH; after that, I can’t promise more than sporadic updates as the mood hits._
> 
> _CN: Seriously? Look, what do I have to do to make this nonsense idea go away?_
> 
> _Ep: I suppose a petition. Or a list of writing prompts I’ve not already covered in this story. But you could step away from my laptop for a start…_
> 
> _CN: Yeah, no. I’m going to be keeping this. (scurries away, holding laptop)_
> 
> _Ep: (calling after receding feline form) You do realize Google Docs is an _internet_ program, right?_


	50. Roles Cast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _An unusual akuma has trapped Chat and Carapace inside the movie the group had planned on taking Adrien to. Chat finds, though, that divining Hawkmoth’s trap will take more than just reliving the plot._

As the travel pod rounded the edge of the drydock, revealing the dazzlingly striking shape of the Starship _Enterprise_, I tried to keep my inner fanboy in check. How many times growing up had I imagined myself aboard that vessel, sitting in that center seat and cruising through the universe on one adventure after another? Seeing the ship there, in whatever reality I was experiencing, was nearly a dream come true. 

It was also a sobering reminder that we were dealing something so powerful, it was capable of fully rendering a two-dimensional film into a fully-immersive experience. We were going to have to be careful, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate the moment, either.

“Dude,” Carapace laughed quietly, “your mouth is open.”

“Sorry,” I smiled back at him. “I’m a bit taken with how real this feels.”

I pulled him back away from the window and toward the rear of the pod, eliciting a slight look of distaste from Mister Scott. Knowing how that character felt about the ship, it was a bit sacrilegious of me to not pay attention to his slow circuit around the ship. “Pause here for a moment, Scotty, if you can.”

“Of course, sir,” he said, smiling at the thought I would be back.

I turned back to Carapace and lowered my voice. “I’ve got a hunch we have to ride this to the end,” I said. “Unless this goes completely off the rails. There are at least four spots in the movie where people get hurt,” I added, seeing his eyes go wide. “We have to assume if we get caught in those situations, real harm could befall us.”

Cap nodded. “All right. I’ve only seen this movie once,” he said.

I looked back to Scotty, who was patiently keeping the pod hovering at the top edge of the saucer section. “After this, we dock and we go to the Bridge,” I said. “Depending on how time passes in this realm, the ship launches twelve hours from now after a frantic push by the crew to get her ready.”

“How long is that section of the movie?”

“Less than fifteen minutes,” I said. “We’ll know how time passes once we dock, I think.”

“Okay,” he said. “And you are Kirk?”

“I think so.”

“Who am I?”

“That’s a good question. Kirk arrives solo in the movie…” I paused, thoughtful for moment, and turned to Scotty. “Mister Scott, do you recognize my companion?”

Scotty smiled widely. “Sir, are ye pulling my leg?” He looked past me to Carapace. “Doctor, ye may wont t’ check the Admiral over once we board,” he said as he raised an eyebrow.

“No need,” I laughed. “I thought with his… beard… he was a bit unrecognizable.

“Beard?” Carapace said.

“I’ll explain later,” I said, “but now we know you’re McCoy, which makes sense given how close these two characters are.”

I nodded to Scotty who continued our little tour of the exterior of the ship; we docked and followed him out into the massive cargo hold deep in the lower section of the _Enterprise_. He turned to me. “I need to get to Engineering,” he said. “Can you find your way---”

“Absolutely,” I smiled as I grabbed Carapace and walked a few more steps toward a pair of doors inset into a lighted tube. 

The doors parted as we approached with a soft sighing noise, revealing an elevator-like compartment. I pulled Carapace in behind me, and the doors slid shut. “Did you see that out there?” he asked.

“I did,” I said as my masked eyes roamed the interior of the carriage. Along the back wall was a lighted display of the ship and the various paths the turbolift could take. “Bridge,” I said to the air.

Carapace looked at me as the lift smoothly accelerated. “Is this, like, an elevator?” he asked, eyes widening further.

“Sort of,” I smiled as I used a clawtip to point out the little white dot that indicated our movement on the display. “Except it responds to voice commands and goes both horizontally and vertically.”

“You know entirely too much about this universe,” he said. “But I’m starting to see why you like it.”

I laughed. “So, this is already a change,” I said to him. “McCoy is supposed to arrive later.”

“Great.” Then he paused. “Who is McCoy again?”

“He’s the chief medical officer for the ship,” I said, “and one of Kirk’s closest friends.”

The lift started to slow, and then gently stopped; the doors sighed open and we walked out onto the circular Bridge – the main command center for the starship. I paused for a moment inside the alcove and took it all in, for it was exactly as it appeared onscreen. A massive viewscreen fronted the space, with technical consoles spiraling around the outer walls, broken only by the two turbolift alcoves. One step down from the deck was the Captain’s Chair, and another step down was the rectangular helm and navigation console. The lower section was inside a protective railing that circled it save for two smaller sets of steps on the left and right.

I tried once more not to geek out, but I knew the space so intimately it was hard not to rush around and start pressing buttons – especially since all of the stations appeared to be active based on the data scrolling by on the tiny monitors. Instead, I managed to whisper, “Wow.”

Contrary to what I was expecting, the characters that _should_ have been on the Bridge were missing. Instead, I was greeted by members from our extended Team Miraculous. My eyes swept down to the center chair, which Pegasus had swiveled around to meet me; behind him, Ryuko was sitting at the navigator’s station, and a confused looking King Monkey was perched atop the helm itself. Bunnix was leaning against one of the standing consoles, barely tall enough to reach it.

“Chat?” Pegasus asked bit quizzically. “Is it really you?”

“Of course it is,” came a cackle from my left, and I turned to see Rena sitting at the communications station; Viperion was standing behind her. “Can’t you see how he’s barely keeping himself from running around in glee?”

I rolled my eyes and chose to ignore Rena. “Guys, how long have you been here?”

Rena looked to Pegasus. “Not long,” she said. “That akuma scooped up most of us fairly quickly; some of us were more wiley than others,” she smiled, “but in the end I think it managed to nail all of us.”

I nodded. “We’ve been here less than fifteen,” I said.

Rena’s eyes went wide. “We got to the cinema a few minutes after you called—”

I gave her a look.

“—Ladybug,” she corrected on the fly. “When we couldn’t locate Cap,” she said pointedly, “or you, for that matter, Ladybug called in the troops.” 

“And Ladybug?” I looked around my handful of teammates.

Bunnix spoke up. “Everyone is here save for her,” she said, arms still folded. “Do you want me to open up a portal and take us all back? I’m still a bit rough around the edges, but I can probably land us a few moments before the akuma hits us.”

“No,” I said, “let’s save that for a moment. In fact,” I said to the wider members of the team, “for now, let’s assume that we only have one shot to use our secret power and no way to recharge afterward. And if Hawkmoth is truly running the show, that could put us into a tough spot.”

“But—” Bunnix started.

“No buts. We have plenty of other talents among us to get through this. I suspect we’ll need to use our secret powers like my Cataclysm before we see the end credits, but until we have a better sense of what we’re up against -- what the rules of this universe are, for that matter, let’s hold off as long as we can.”

“Is this real?” Viperion asked. “Are we actually on the _Enterprise_?”

“We’d better assume it is, ‘Rion,” I said as I leaned against the railing. “Even if we’re stuck inside some sort of mass hallucination, I fear injuries are possible… or worse.”

King Monkey shifted slightly. “That’s sobering.”

“It is,” I said. “But there is no other group I’d want around me,” I said.

I was more wound up than I thought, for when the console next to Rena started beeping, I jumped and landed in a four-point perch atop the railing ringing the lower section of the Bridge. Rena smirked before searching the console for a moment; she located a blinking switch and looked at me.

“Go for it,” I said as I slid off the railing to stand beside her.

Rena pressed the button.

The viewscreen went to static and then resolved into a high definition picture of the grinning Hawkmoth. “Ah, there you are,” he said, smiling wider. 

“Hawkmoth,” I said coldly. 

“Chat Noir. I’m not entirely responsible for where you find yourself – but it will suit my purposes.”

“What have you done with Ladybug?” I asked as I stepped down to the Captain’s Chair. “If you’ve hurt her in any way…”

“Or what?” he cackled. “You’re not exactly in a position to make demands. However, I’ll give you one chance to end this now. Hand over your Miraculous – all of them, not just the ring – and I’ll ensure everyone is returned to Paris safely.”

“No,” I said.

“Too bad, but about what I expected,” he smiled. “Then you might want to get to – what is it called now?” He laughed. “Well, science fiction isn’t my strong suit.” 

The screen faded to black as an alarm sang out from Rena’s console again, and she pressed another button. A panicked voice filled the Bridge. “Captain, we’ve got a problem with the transporter—“

A bolt of adrenaline hit me. “Pegasus, Viperion, Cap – with me. _Now_,” I said as I vaulted over the railing surrounding the lower section of the Bridge and into the turbolift.

They leapt in behind me and the doors snapped shut. “Transporter, express,” I said to the air. As the lift swiftly began to drop, accelerating as it moved, I immediately turned to Pegasus. “There’s a transporter accident in progress,” I explained. “Unless I miss my mark, Hawky has somehow been able to use this against Ladybug.”

Pegasus went white as Cap looked at me. “What do you mean, ‘accident,’” Cap asked.

“It’s not good,” Pegasus said. “Chat, without Markov I’m not sure how much help I can be.”

“You’re better at Physics than I am,” I said as the lift shifted direction and started going horizontally. “I feel like you can puzzle out the console faster than I can. And with ‘Rion’s help, if we get it wrong…”

“I’ll take good notes,” the snake-themed hero said, putting a gloved hand on my shoulder. “If he’s truly trapped Ladybug like that, we’ll save her.”

“I’m counting on it,” I said as the lift barreled through the ship. 


	51. Transmission Complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hawkmoth puts the team through the ringer with his film-based akuma, testing Chat’s knowledge of the Star Trek movie universe as he tries to protect Ladybug and the rest of Team Miraculous._

The turbolift quickly slowed to a stop and the doors snapped open, revealing a short corridor of angled metal accents in silver in white, lit from panels angled upward from the deck plating. Much as with the Bridge, I’d expected to see crewmembers dashing to and fro; they were, instead, eerily empty save for the notification panels hanging every few meters from the ceiling, blinking their notifications to no one in particular.

As I tentatively stepped out, I could see double doors every ten meters or so, most with symbols I recognized from having digested _Mister Scott’s Guide to the Enterprise_. It didn’t hurt, either, that I was fairly certain the turbolift tended to have access points convenient to major areas on the ship, like Engineering and Sickbay.

Or the Transporter Room.

“This way,” I said, pulling out my baton. “I’m not certain if this will be exactly like the movie,” I added as we paused outside a door with a stencil of a person being disassembled. The sign alone made the process seem a bit dramatic, but then again, it _was_ converting matter to energy.

Suddenly I found myself agreeing with Doctor McCoy on the merits of the Transporter.

Stepping closer to the door triggered unseen sensors and they sighed open, revealing a space in utter chaos. Moving inside warily, I saw electrical shorts in the small control booth two steps up from the deck; hopping up them, I was quickly joined by ‘Rion and Pegasus, with Carapace moving in front of the booth. 

Looking through the protective glass, I could see a shimmering cylinder of energy, and just inside that, a shadow of a figure, partially formed. My heart skipped a beat before anger took over – anger that Hawkmoth would even play with our lives in this manner.

As if he were listening in on us, the tiny communications indicator lit up and our nemesis spoke. “Oh,” he said with that icy cold voice. “Looks like you have a bit of a problem on your hands. I can help, of course… for a price.”

I smashed a claw tip into the communications control, extinguishing the light. “Trigger Second Chance,” I told Viperion. “We’re going to need it.”

“On it,” he said as I heard him activate his secret power. I was a bit concerned with what he might see – and remember – if we were unsuccessful, for it was one of the more memorable scenes in the movie. Especially the screaming from the unfortunate souls who’d been trapped in the malfunctioning system.

Pegasus slid around me and took less than a moment to familiarize himself with the console. Multiple alarms were going off, and even an untrained eye could see the flashing red indicators all over the control panel – far too many for one person to deal with. It was easy to tell that a catastrophic error was in progress. “Can you do it?” I asked Pegasus over the growing din of electrical shorts and alarms.

“I need another moment,” Pegasus said. “The math is a bit complicated.”

Frantically I looked at the console as I sorted through _every_ Transporter-related accident I could remember from the series. “Signal booster!” I had to shout, for the system itself had begun to whine loudly, reinforcing the fact that it was operating incorrectly. “What would it look like?”

Pausing for a moment with his own work at the controls, Pegasus looked at my side of the booth. “That!” Pegasus he said urgently, pointing to a dial with a gas tank like indicator.

I twisted the control as high as it went and looked up to see the shimmering of the beam itself become a little smoother. “That worked,” I said before seeing another small display reading out a number that was falling fast. “I bought a little time,” I continued, “but this number is going down, which can’t be good.” I leaned closer to see the label.

_Pattern Stability._

“What is it at?” Pegasus asked before he started to mutter formulae while pressing buttons faster than he had a right to, given _I_ was supposed to be the uber fan.

“Eighty-nine,” I said. “Eighty-six.”

“Engage the system again,” Pegasus said. “Big red switch, turn it to the right.”

I started to reach for it only to have Viperion appear out of nowhere. 

“Let me,” he said quickly.

Realizing we were in a Second Chance loop, I stepped back. 

Viperion quickly pressed a flurry of commands into the console. “Beta over cosine of omega,” he said to Pegasus. “Then take the derivative of the time-based decay over the transmission distance, accounting for our current orbital position.”

“Holy—” Pegasus started before bending to his part of the console and entering another set of commands. 

I looked up and through the window, and watched as the pattern of Ladybug continued to solidify. I didn’t wait and dashed back down the steps and around to the edge of the Transporter platform itself. The high-pitched crystalline whine of the mechanics continued to change chords from something that sounded ill to the mellifluous sounds of a working system. In a final brilliant burst of blue energy, the beam vanished to reveal Ladybug standing there.

Leaping to her side, I caught her as she stumbled and slumped into my arms, unconscious.

* * *

Somehow, I managed to navigate us to Sickbay while carrying Ladybug through the corridors of the ship. The wild amazement of being aboard had receded now that I’d confirmed in the worst way imaginable that the possibility of any of us getting hurt was very, very real. A part of me was sad, but the hero in me knew it was time to get down to business.

I’d carefully placed Ladybug atop the biobed in the exam room, and the three of us were now watching the medical data scrolling across the massive screen just behind her. Fortunately, the space was just as automated as Doctor McCoy had decried; simply placing her insensate form on the transparent mattress had triggered a diagnostic routine, and the feminine voice of the ship’s central computer had recommended a hypospray that had materialized on the table next to Carapace.

He frowned as he held the vaguely pen-like tool, for the computer had recognized him as the Chief Medical Officer, reinforcing my suspicion that we had all replaced key characters in the movie. “What is this, again?”

“It’s a high-tech needle,” I said. “Press it to her neck and it will deliver the exact dose the computer recommended.”

Viperion looked as concerned as Carapace. “I don’t like this,” he said. “What if the akuma has changed this, too?”

My feline eyes shot to the snake bracelet on his wrist, which was chirping. “It’s a feline,” I said. “But we have one way to be sure.”

“But—”

“Cap, let her sleep for a bit longer while I recharge ‘Rion,” I said as I tugged Viperion to the left double door that I knew led to McCoy’s office. I was reasonably certain there was a replicator there, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Pointing to the console, I said: “Tell that what you need for your kwami,” I said before turning. “I’ll step over here and keep my back to you so you can drop your transformation. When you’re done, we can trigger Second Chance again. Just in case.”

“Chat,” he said as he snagged my arm. “You already know who I am.”

“Do I?” I said, wearing my best confused expression. “I’ll be right here.”

As I turned my back, I heard Viperion drop his transformation and then quietly ask for something from the replicator. It hummed for a moment before I heard its tinnier version of the transporter effect. “Munching now,” ‘Rion said.

“Good.” My masked feline eyes watched as one of the round monitors outside McCoy’s office displayed some sort of cellular analysis. “How many times--?” I started to ask quietly.

“I lost track after fifty,” came the soft reply. I heard him re-transform and turned once the flash had disappeared. “I… wish I’d not seen what could happen—”

I put my paws on his shoulders and looked at him carefully. “The important part is that, thanks in no small part to your efforts, it never did.” I searched his masked eyes, knowing the boy beneath them cared deeply for Ladybug, too. “I know what she means to you.”

He smiled a crooked smile that gave away his secret identity, if you knew what you were seeing. “Unrequited, it seems.”

“She has a big heart,” I observed. “I might be in first position, but that doesn’t preclude her from having room for others in there.”

Viperion smiled a bit more. “It’s not quite the same,” he said sadly.

I nodded slowly. “I know,” I replied, having been in his very boots with Ladybug for what had felt like an eternity. “On the other hand, I think it’s quite possible she keeps us around just to take the hits for her,” I added with a wry smile, trying to lighten his mood.

It worked and he laughed. “You might be on to something there, Chat.”

I smiled. “Come on, ‘Rion. Let’s go save her again.”

We rejoined Carapace and Pegasus in the exam room only to find a smiling Ladybug sitting on the edge of the biobed. “I was in a Transporter?” she asked as the double doors sighed shut behind us.

“Yes,” I said, looking to Carapace with an arched masked eyebrow. “I thought I said—"

“It’s not my fault,” he replied, looking guilty. “The computer kept after me until I gave her the dose.”

“She can be very persuasive,” Pegasus added with a nervous laugh. “I may have to adjust Markov.”

“Ladybug could have—” Viperion started, his masked eyes flashing.

Thinking Viperion was going to tear the shell off of my best friend, I tactfully put myself between them. “’Rion,” I said. “Stand down.”

“But—”

“_Stand_ down,” I growled a bit. “This is exactly what Hawkmoth wants.”

The snake themed hero nodded tightly.

“How do you feel?” I asked as I moved to the biobed and slid up beside Ladybug, wrapping her in a hug. “We were a bit worried.”

“Like I’ve been pulled in a million directions.”

“That’s not far off,” I said.

“Where are we?” she asked as she finally took in her surroundings.

I quickly sketched in what I thought had happened and was halfway through explaining what particular characters I suspected we were replacing when the communications panel whistled, followed by Rena’s voice. “Chat?”

Pressing what looked like the obvious activation button with a claw, I said: “Rena? We’re here with Ladybug.”

“Good,” she said, “but I’ve got something else. I’m starting to get the hang of this console, and unless I’m reading this wrong, I’ve got an incoming message again.”

I looked to Ladybug. “Can you figure out how to send it down here?”

“Yeah, hang on – oh, damn – there?”

There was a click and then the very recognizable tones of Hawkmoth filled the small diagnostic room. “So, you managed to save Ladybug.”

“Yes,” I said, amazed at how he sounded like he was in stereo. “No thanks to you, I might add.”

“Well… I can see that was a little too easy for you,” he laughed, a cruel, cold affair. “Same deal applies: relinquish all of your Miraculous and I’ll see you are returned to Paris unharmed.”

“No deal,” Ladybug said before looking at me.

“That’s unfortunate, but not unexpected.” Hawkmoth laughed again. “I’m becoming more and more a fan of this movie,” he continued. “Let’s see how you feel about the next challenge facing you.”

And with that, the connection went dead.

Ladybug looked at me. “What does he mean?” she asked. “You know this movie inside and out.”

Echoing what Pegasus had said earlier, I answered grimly: “It’s not good.” Then I smiled. “But the odds are better now that you’re here.”

“Flatterer,” she laughed. “But seriously, what happens next?”

“The ship—” I started, then a wild idea popped into my feline brain. 

Ladybug saw the change in my expression and the sly smile that had appeared. “What?” she prompted. “You suddenly look like you ate the canary.”

“Maybe I did,” I said thoughtfully. “We’re inside a movie, right?”

“Yeah,” Pegasus answered.

“And aside from a few minor changes, we’re moved along nearly scene by scene.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you.” This was from Viperion, who was leaning against the far wall of translucent storage compartments. His folded arms belied his lingering anger.

“Ignoring our use of Second Chance, we’ve been moving forward through the story. Always _forward_,” I emphasized, turning my feline eyes upon Ladybug. “We shouldn’t play this game at Hawkmoth’s pace.”

“Time seems to be linear here, Chat,” Pegasus reminded me. “It’s not like you can skip to the end.”

“Not the _end_,” I smiled as I looked to Ladybug. “We need to get to the _credits_. That’s when everyone leaves, right? When the movie is unequivocally finished.”

“I should point out that you’re the only one who sits through the credits,” Cap reminded me.

“Humor me,” I laughed, for I felt like I’d just unlocked our way out of the crazy situation we were in. “Milady?”

Slowly, Ladybug started to smile. “You know it doesn’t always work that way, right?”

“I have faith, Milady,” I smiled wider.

“All right,” she said as she slipped off the bed. “Lucky Charm!” she cried, and the small exam room exploded in a burst of red and white light; a small square item resembling an old-fashioned floppy disk dropped into Ladybug’s palm.

She arched a masked eyebrow at the polka-dotted wafer-thin item, then looked to me. “I hope this is what you were expecting.”

I grinned. “It was. Come one, let’s get back to the Bridge. We’ll need Rena for the next part.”


	52. End Credits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat’s creativity allows the team to turn the tables on Hawkmoth._

As the double doors of the turbolift sighed open, I bounded out and directly over to Rena, handing her the small disk that was in my paw. We’d used the communications panel in the elevator to fill her in on our plans as the carriage sped its way to the top of the saucer section, so she quickly turned back to the communications console and deftly slipped the small square into a receptacle. “I asked the computer how to do this,” she said over her shoulder to us as we gathered around the brown-haired fox. “She was far more helpful than Siri, I must say.”

“There are a few more advances in artificial intelligence by the twenty-third century,” I pointed out as I leaned against a paw on the edge of the console.

“For sure. But I’m writing an email to Apple when we get home anyway.”

She worked for a moment and then pointed to one of the small round monitors just in front of her. It flickered into life and started to show the very movie we were in, jumping directly to about where we were supposed to have been in the movie. It displayed an exterior shot of the _Enterprise_ in dry dock, getting ready to depart. “This is now synched completely,” Rena said.

“Can you transfer it to the main viewer?” I asked.

Ladybug looked at me. “Whatever for?”

I shrugged. “Might as well see it in widescreen.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes as Rena tapped out a command. We turned in unison and saw the image appear on the rectangular viewer mounted at the forwardmost point of the Bridge. 

“All right,” I said to everyone. “I have a sense of how this might work, but just in case, you might want to find an empty seat and hold on.”

As I took my spot at the Captain’s Chair, I waited until everyone was safely seated before swiveling toward Rena. “Go for it, Rena.”

The fox nodded and tapped a flashing button; I turned back toward the viewer and watched as the movie jumped ahead at triple the normal speed. My masked eyes flicked down to the chronometer built into the helm and navigation console just in front of me and was similarly rewarded by watching the time display begin to tick by at an extraordinary rate. Twisting slightly, I looked to Ladybug seated at the science console behind me. “So far, so good,” I said.

She nodded before turning herself to watch one of her monitors. “This countdown is ticking faster to zero,” she warned. “Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily. They were keeping track of when Vejur was to enter orbit around Earth. It hits zero just a bit before the end of the movie.”

I was forced to pause, for the ship lurched beneath me, and then again. On the screen in front of us, the _Enterprise_ had been dragged into a wormhole as a result of a misaligned warp core. In our version, it lasted just a moment before the shaking ceased; in another blink, we went to warp, dropped out, and entered the massive translucent cloud. I turned back to Rena. “Speed it up if you can,” I said.

“On it,” Rena said. She tapped another button and the chronometer below me shot ahead five times faster; in a matter of a few minutes, the _Enterprise_ arrived at the heart of the alien spaceship.

“I’d guess about ten seconds until we hit zero,” Ladybug called out.

I nodded. “The finale comes pretty quick,” I said a fraction of a second before the screen lit up with a dazzling pyrotechnics display; a moment later, the _Enterprise_ was serenely orbiting Earth before moving away into space and jumping back to warp.

“This is the part that might get rough,” I said. “Everyone get ready.”

It was exceedingly meta to watch the end credits of the movie I was trapped inside start to scroll upward on the massive viewscreen. As with the rest of the movie, they scrolled by very fast; before I had a chance to say anything to anyone, the space filled with a brilliant white light, blinding me despite throwing an arm in front of my masked eyes. Blinking furiously, I called out: “Everyone okay?”

I heard a chorus of affirmations but in the end, it didn’t matter for my vision cleared and the entire team and I were standing on the same roof where the akuma had taken us out. The movie theater was still a pile of rubble, but the sentimonster was nowhere to be found. I had to assume the akuma was still close at hand. Ladybug stepped up beside me, her earrings chirping their first warning. “He’s here,” I said. “Don’t ask me how I know.” I turned toward her. “Do you want to feed Tikki before we continue?”

She nodded. “I think we’ll need another Lucky Charm to get through this anyway,” she said as she dashed away to find a safe place to detransform.

Ladybug had barely ducked around an HVAC unit before the telltale metallic tang of a film canister hitting something. Flipping backwards, I landed in a rough semicircle of Miraculous holders facing our theater akuma. “Who?” I asked tersely as the akuma smiled at us.

“Ryuko,” Rena said. “She caught us off guard.”

“Damn.” I tensed, baton in one paw. Catching a movement, I yelled: “Scatter!”

We leaped in multiple directions, landing in a massive circle surrounding the akuma. She’d thrown a canister at us, but it had missed Pegasus by a wide margin and clattered to rest against the brick wall before _poofing_ into nothing. Slowly, we circled in unison around the akuma, our time together as a team allowing us to work in unison without a ton of verbal direction.

The akuma twirled and shot out three canisters in different directions; I swatted one back with the baton, and Carapace hurled his shield at the second; King Monkey tried to leap over it but misjudged and vanished in a flash of light. I was starting to have flashbacks to Party Crasher.

“Regroup!” I yelled and vaulted toward the edge of the roof and then over and onto the street below. I sprinted down the street and rounded a corner, hearing the footfalls of my teammates as they fell in behind me; sliding into a side alleyway, I skidded to a stop and already had the baton out to let Ladybug know we’d moved.

“I’m here,” she said from behind me. “I saw your tactical retreat,” she added as the remainder of our group formed a tight ring around us. 

“Glad to have you back,” I said. “Please tell me you have a Lucky Charm.”

“I do,” she smiled as she held out a polka-dotted roll of gaffer’s tape.

“What on earth are we going to do with that?”

Ladybug’s eyes twinkled. “You aren’t going to believe it. But first, I need your tail.”

* * *

Not long afterward, I found myself grousing loudly from where I’d been taped to the side of a building. Ladybug had insisted on ensuring I was secure, and as the akuma started down the wide avenue toward me, I flexed one more time to remind myself I wasn’t going anyway anytime soon. “This had better work,” I muttered.

“Have faith,” I heard in my ear, for the team had broken out our earwigs.

“You’re not the one—”

“Hush,” Ladybug said.

The akuma was close enough now I could see she actually had a name badge on that said _Claire_. It was a nice touch, if she hadn’t been so menacing. The akuma was smiling wildly, and slowly began to pull out a canister. “Not quite a cat on a hot tin roof, but I won’t quibble when it’s been otherwise gift wrapped,” she said. “My day is looking up.”

“I wanted to stick around for the end of the show,” I smiled back. “Get the full movie experience.”

“That’s too bad,” she said as she readied her canister. “For there are no end-credit bonus scenes.”

“I don’t know about that,” I grinned. “This is the director’s cut, after all.”

She looked at me oddly, but advanced a bit more before hurling the canister at me. In that same fraction of a moment, Pegasus opened a portal, allowing Rena to dash out in front of me, tugging behind her one of those mini-soccer goals from an indoor gym. My tail had been tied to one end, and she timed it perfectly, capturing the canister a few meters in front of me.

As the akuma started to reach for another canister, Carapace’s shield came out of nowhere and knocked her off kilter; as she spun around, trying to regain her balance, Viperion landed cleanly next to her and yanked off her goggles, tossing them toward my ring hand that had been conveniently taped palm-outward.

“Cataclysm!” I cried just as the goggles hit my hand. They quickly dissolved, releasing the purple akuma that Ladybug deftly snagged with her yo-yo from where she’d been crouching just behind a dumpster. Standing, she spun up the yo-yo further and sliced my bonds, dropping me to the pavement.

“Nicely done,” I said as I watched her purify the butterfly. As she called for her Miraculous Cure, I helped who turned out to be the theater manager to her feet and, after ensuring there were no lingering effects, saw her back to the fully restored cineplex.

“One complaint too many about the price of popcorn,” I said to Ladybug with a _tsk-tsk _as we stood beneath the lighted marquee. “Although I have to agree, it has gotten rather expensive.”

“It has,” she nodded. “Let me collect everyone’s Miraculous and then we can continue with our original plans, Chat,” she added, inclining her head at the milling crowd of holders that were just out of earshot. I did a second headcount to confirm once more that everyone had reappeared after we’d broken the akuma spell.

“Actually, Milady,” I said, looking at all of my colleagues, many of them my friends in civilian life, “as much fun as it was to roam the corridors of my favorite starship, I think I’ve had my fill of the movies for a bit. I have a better idea.”

She arched a masked eyebrow. “Oh?”

“How would you feel about a little team building? I know a nice deserted warehouse where we could have a most wonderful match of Capture the Flag, Miraculous style.”

Ladybug looked at me, and a smile slowly formed. “I like it. Not everyone has gotten a chance to become proficient with their secret superpower. Let me run past the Bakery to get some food to charge up everyone, and then you’re on.” Her smile went a little sly as she leaned in a bit. “But it’s gonna be guys versus gals.”

“As you wish, Milady,” I laughed.


	53. Return to Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _After spending the long holiday break with Marinette and her family, Chat reluctantly returns to the mansion to resume his regularly scheduled life._

I cherished every day that Santa had gifted me; spending part of holiday break at the Bakery left me with memories I knew I would cherish for years. It had been a long time since I’d had a Merry Christmas, and it was with great reluctance I returned to the mansion on New Year’s Day.

Nathalie had called just after breakfast, and the sedan pulled up a hair before ten. Why it was necessary for me to resume my solitary existence when there was still a good week before school restarted was a mystery to me, but one I shrugged off knowing that I’d likely be able to escape the confines of my cell fairly quickly. Trudging through the front door of the mansion, I dryly noted the Christmas tree was already history, along with what little decorating Nathalie and I had done before Father’s impromptu overseas trip. Normally, I’d be sad to see it discarded so quickly, but with my warm memories of family still fresh from my visit to the Dupain-Cheng’s, my spirits remained ebullient. 

As I entered my bedroom, I realized Nathalie had been rattling off a schedule – an honest to goodness _schedule_ – for the rest of the day and the remainder of the week. I’d only trained a single feline ear in her direction (figuratively speaking, of course) and otherwise had tuned her out, but something she’d said caught my attention. “Did you say Los Angeles?”

Nathalie nodded. “Yes. Your father has booked a photo shoot for the summer swim catalog, and his photographer of choice isn’t able to get to Nice this year. He will be in---” she flipped something on her tablet, then looked back at me, “—Santa Monica and Newport Beach this week, so we’re going to him.”

I blinked. “I’m leaving Paris?”

“Just for a few days,” she said, then she lowered her tablet. “I… thought it was best to squeeze it in now, before school restarted,” she added quietly. “So you won’t miss anything.”

I blinked again. There were times when I thought Nathalie actually cared about me. “Thanks, Nathalie,” I said with a half-smile. As she turned to go, I quickly stopped her. “Nathalie… would it be possible---”

“I presumed you’d want to bring some friends with you and have planned accordingly. I just need their names for the tickets,” she said as she looked over her shoulder, a genuine smile on her face. “Merry Christmas, Adrien,” she said softly.

Despite everything, I hugged her. “This means a lot to me. Thank you.”

She nodded and left; I waited a few moments to ensure the coast was clear before calling Marinette. When her face appeared on my screen, I smiled a Chat smile at her.

“Don’t you look like the Chat that’s eaten the canary,” my girlfriend said. Arching an eyebrow at me, Marinette asked: “What trouble are you planning on getting us into now, Kitty?”

“Remember when you said you wished you could be on set when I did a swimsuit photo shoot…?”

* * *

Late that evening, I dropped out of the sky and into a crouch atop one of our rooftop meeting locations. Realizing the two of us couldn’t exactly talk freely, Marinette had suggested we meet up and discuss my wild plan to take a significant portion of Team Miraculous to the United States for a few days. On paper it sounded foolishly dangerous, but I had an ace in the hole that I furrvently hoped would convince my skeptical partner it was doable. Ladybug was but a moment behind me, dropping down on her yo-yo. She quickly settled in, cross-legged and nestled into my shoulder.

“This is the craziest idea yet, Chat,” she said not unkindly. “And we can’t leave Paris unprotected.”

“We won’t be gone more than a few days, Milady,” I replied as I wrapped my tail around her waist and nudged her closer. I wasn’t above using my full set of feline skills to get what I wanted. “You’ve picked some fantastic members for our bench, LB. They can cover for us until we get back.”

“Chat,” Ladybug sighed, “this isn’t some sort of part-time gig that we just choose to do when we feel like it.” She scratched behind an ear, allowing me the excuse to start purring. “I admit to being a bit lax at allowing you to use your Miraculous for more personal—”

“Purrrrrsonal,” I interjected as I softly rubbed my head against her cheek.

“—reasons,” she continued, rolling her eyes, “given what I now know about your home life. But this is something different. We’re talking about willingly being thousands of miles away with no way to get back if Hawkmoth decides to rear his ugly head.”

I purred a bit more.

Ladybug pulled back. “You’ve already thought about this, haven’t you?”

I nodded, returning to my cat-ate-the-canary grin. “I’ve had a good mentor,” I added.

Arching a masked eyebrow, Ladybug sighed. “Lay it on me.”

My grin widened. “Pegasus.”

Ladybug stared at me. “That’s… that’s actually rather brilliant, Chat.” 

“Thank you, Milady.” I purred louder. “My thinking is that we loan Max his Miraculous while we are in Los Angeles; if something happens here, he can open a portal and we’re back in Paris before Hawkmoth knows we were missing.”

She nodded slowly. “I like it, but I need to think about it a bit. When does the plane leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” I said. “And I don’t have a choice – I _have_ to be on it.”

Ladybug nodded again. “Which means I’d probably have to use some version of this idea if I stayed here in Paris but needed to yank you back.” She ran a hand along my mask edge. “You thought of that, too, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, unable to prevent my masked eyes from closing at her touch. I may have even leaned into her ministrations… damn those feline tendencies. “I’d understand if you didn’t want to come, Milady. But at least you have the option now if you wish.”

Ladybug smiled in such a way that my I felt my face warm up. “How small are those swimsuits, exactly?” she asked sweetly.

My masked eyes snapped open as my face started to radiate like the sun. “Small enough,” I swallowed.

Slowly, she leaned in and kissed me. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

House of Gabriel rented a beach house for the few days that we were going to be in Santa Monica; with the time difference between Paris and Los Angeles, we wound up arriving with the balance of the day left to explore the city – under the watchful eyes of my bodyguard. Though he spoke rarely, he hardly ever smiled – and yet, acting as the defacto babysitter for the four exuberant teenagers appeared to have gentled his mood enormously.

It might have also been the mouse ears that Alya talked him into wearing while we were at Disneyland.

The jet lag started to catch up with us when we returned to the beach house late that evening. Sitting around the firepit facing the wide, white sand beach, Marinette and I huddled on one side against the chill of the evening while Nino and Alya mirrored us on the other. S’mores had been requested, and my bodyguard was in the kitchen pulling together the materials for us.

“I hope it’s not this chilly in the morning,” I mewled as I huddled closer to Marinette.

My nascent night vision caught the wicked gleam in her eye. “I’m sure they’ll give you a robe between takes,” she said.

“They’ll have to Photoshop out the goosebumps,” I sighed. 

“They do that?” Nino asked, his eyes wide.

“You have no idea,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Even _I_ don’t even recognize who it is after they work on me digitally.” I flopped my head, letting my hair swish a bit. “The hair tends to get the most effort. And that’s after they gel the heck out it.”

Mari looked at me. “If you had a choice, would you model?” she asked seriously.

I thought about that for a moment. “I’ve done it for so long now, I don’t know a life outside of it,” I replied honestly. “Maybe? It’s given me a set of skills that have come in handy, that’s for sure.”

“And a face known the world over,” Alya pointed out.

I blushed a bit. “Well, I suppose,” I said, shifting my gaze to the ocean. “It does make it hard to walk down the street from time to time.”

My bodyguard appeared with the makings for S’mores, but glanced meaningfully at the massive clock hanging against side of the house. Picking up on his cue, I smiled at my friends. “One round for me,” I said, “and then I need to get my beauty rest.”

“Are really you okay with all of us being on set tomorrow?” Nino asked.

I looked at my small core group of friends and smiled wider. “I’d want you all at my side no matter where I was,” I said genuinely, before smiling. “No matter _what_ I was wearing. Now, let’s eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm back with new weekly content for WCBHKH. I just can't stop this story. :-)


	54. When in Southern California, Be Sure to Visit the Sights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _While shooting on location in Santa Monica, California, the team begs Adrien to visit the production offices of the recent _Ladybug _animated movie. Sneaking away at lunchtime proves to be a poor decision, however… _

My bodyguard woke me while it was still pitch black outside the windows of the beachfront cottage; groggily, I tossed on some sweats and followed him out the patio doors and onto the beach beyond the small gate. Meters from where we had enjoyed s’mores just a few hours earlier, a small crew was constructing the set for the photo shoot, raising lights and running cables all over the place. Just off to the side, the makeup and wardrobe trailers had been hauled in; the lights from both spilled out from their small windows across the sand, the only illumination save for the partial moon reflected against the gentle surf crashing along the beach.

Trudging into the makeup trailer first, I was pounced upon by a crew of three; I was reminded why models couldn’t be self-conscious, for in short order, every square inch of skin that wouldn’t be covered by a swimsuit was coated with a deep bronze solution to make it appear as though I’d been frolicking among the waves for months now. While that dried, they went after the hair (four pounds of gel, easily) and face (I detested the mascara especially). When the sun finally started to lighten the beach outside the window of the trailer some two hours later, the Adrien Agreste I saw in the mirror was a carbon copy of the one appearing on last several fashion magazine covers and more than a few billboards throughout Paris – albeit wearing a terry cloth robe.

That was how the trio found me when the door to the trailer opened. I’d been a model long enough that it only bothered me in passing that my friends would see me in such a state; what hurt more was seeing the cup of coffee in Nino’s hand and the egg sandwich Alya was munching on. Marinette must have seen some part of my Chat persona staring longingly at the food and quickly shushed the duo back out of the trailer before joining me.

“You haven’t eaten, have you?” she asked quietly as she took the small folding chair next to the makeup station.

“I’ll get something on the set later,” I said, sounding perhaps a little too eager.

“You look… tanned…” Mari said, her eyes taking in what skin was visible.

“I know,” I laughed. “Apparently I need to spend more time in the sun back in Paris.”

She leaned closer after ensuring the lone remaining makeup artist was exiting the trailer. “Well, you _are_ tanned around your mask,” she said softly with a wink.

I felt myself flushing. “I had to explain that I wore large sunglasses,” I whispered even though we were alone. “I don’t think they bought it, but I also didn’t realize the transformation wasn’t resetting my skin coloring either.”

“You are Chat far too often,” she reminded me. 

“Which is why I am tempted to call on Plagg and escape this whole thing,” I frowned.

“He might be annoyed,” she said. “Tikki is with him; they were enjoying the sunrise from the rooftop last I knew, along with Trixx and Wayzz.”

I sighed. “He deserves some time off, I suppose.”

“All of them do.” She glanced to the door. “When does it start?”

“The festivities?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “As soon as the light is right for the photographer. Maybe thirty minutes,” I added, looking out the window again. “This particular artist likes the ‘golden hour’ around sunrise and sunset.”

Looking back at my girlfriend, I smiled slightly. “It’s not very glamorous life, that of a supermodel. I mostly wait around for something to happen.”

“Well, thanks for having us along in any event,” she smiled and leaned in for a hug.

“Hey – hey – hey!” came a cry from the door. Guiltily, we both turned as the makeup artist bounded toward me. “Watch the coloring!” she cried as she frantically applied something to my chin. “This stuff comes off easy.”

“Good to know,” I said, though it was muffled a bit by her efforts. It took a ton of effort not to laugh at the face Marinette was making just off to my side.

* * *

The first three outfits took up a third of the morning – if such small scraps of fabric could be called that. Normally I’d not give a moment’s thought to what I was wearing for the camera, but with Alya documenting every last move, I found myself reversing course and becoming _quite_ self-conscious – to the point where I was relieved my flaming face was well-hidden beneath the layers of makeup. Still, my model training served me well and the photographer didn’t call for more than a handful of re-shoots.

Despite the seeming warmth the early morning sunshine should have provided, I found I was chilled to the bone standing on the sand for the camera. The gentle sea breeze reminded me I was the only one on set not wearing a hat or jacket – or, well, anything for that matter; it was made worse, perhaps, by the massive fans that were being used intermittently to give the illusion of movement, though the amount of gel in my hair made that nearly impossible to capture on film. There was no question the goosebumps were going to visible.

Blessedly, close to ten we broke for the first time and I descended on the craft table like a vengeful wraith, piling a plate full of food and oblivious to the stares I was getting from the crew. I generally hadn’t gotten much in the way of calories before becoming Chat Noir, owing to my need to fit a specific body shape for Father’s ad campaigns; with my metabolism cranked as a result of the Miraculous, I found myself to be ravenous no matter the hour. Marinette had initially (unwittingly) augmented my caloric intake when I began visiting her at the Bakery as Chat, but even before that, I’d made many a midnight snack run on the kitchen once I became a Hero of Paris. It wasn’t easy sneaking around the mansion, and though it would have been far easier to do as Chat, for some reason I’d opted instead to bury my impulse and remain in my civilian form. Some part of my fur brain knew it would be bad if Chat were caught with his hand in the treat jar.

I made short work of my first plateful of food and had to resist a very feline impulse to lick the plate clean of crumbs (where on Earth did that come from?); it took but a moment to remind myself nature abhorred a vacuum. Returning to the craft table a second time, I piled my plate high again, pulled my robe tighter against the sea breeze and then set out to find my friends.

They were sitting along the edge of the what appeared to be a wooden balance beam, part of some sort of open-air gym. It happened to be just inside a small ribbon that had been strung around the set, something that must have gone up while I’d been in hair and makeup. A small crowd of curious beachgoers had gathered to see what the fuss was all about; contrary to the huge crowds that formed wherever I went in Paris, though, this one was rather sedate and not very large. I smiled, realizing most of these people probably had no idea who I was or what the big deal going on behind me was all about.

I started to say hello when I caught the gleeful smile on Alya’s face. “What?” I asked as I hopped up and settled in next to Marinette. I growled at her slightly when she snuck a grape off my plate.

“You know that company that did the animated _Ladybug_ movie?” she asked.

“I should,” I smiled. Marinette stole another grape and I growled again, glaring at her as I shifted the plate away. “I’m the voice of Chat Noir in the movie. And the upcoming sequels.”

Marinette blinked. “I forgot about that,” she said, reaching behind me and trying to snag the croissant. “Is it weird acting as yourself?”

“No,” I laughed. “The lines were terrible, the puns worse, and I couldn’t fathom the plot.”

“And yet it was a massive blockbuster,” Nino said. “Despite not having Carapace or Rena in it.”

I laughed. “You sound like Chloe.”

“Hey!” Nino’s eyes narrowed. “No need for insults, dude.”

“Sorry,” I said as I maneuvered the plate away from my girlfriend again.

“Well,” Alya said, “as it turns out, they have an office here in Santa Monica.” She paused. “Where the writers work. And the producer.”

I frowned, for I thought I knew were this was going. “No,” I said, shaking my gelled-to-my-skull hair. “Absolutely not.”

“Hear me out,” Alya continued. “What if _the_ Chat Noir dropped in and made the suggestion—”

“No.”

“Dude,” Nino said, “at the very least they should use Mari-chick for Ladybug, not whoever it was.”

_That_ was a fair point, for the woman they’d selected to voice Ladybug had been a challenge to work with, though the script had left a lot to be desired, too. “I’m not that powerful,” I hedged. “I’m just the voice talent.”

“You’re also the son of Gabriel Agreste, who happens to have an exclusive deal to market clothing based on the movie,” Alya reminded me. “But it’s not Adrien we want. It should be Chat.”

I blinked. “How do I explain suddenly turning up in California?” I asked, before realizing I was _actually_ considering this wacky request.

Marinette smiled. “Pegasus,” she said simply.

I groaned. “Are you stealing my idea?”

“We aren’t _actually_ going to use him,” she said. “But it is a handy explanation.”

I looked at my friends. “And I suppose you want to ensure that Cap and Rena are worked into the sequel, too,” I accused, arching an eyebrow.

Nino had the good sense to flush. “Dude—”

“Fine,” I said as I caught the assistant photographer beckoning to me. “But we _all_ go.”

“That was the—”

“Transformed,” I added as I gave up and handed the plate to Marinette.

Alya’s eyes widened. “Now wait just a minute—”

“Dude, I don’t—”

“Chat—I mean, Adrien, that’s—”

“See you at lunch,” I laughed as I stood up and headed back to the set.

* * *

After receiving explicit instructions not to do anything to disturb my makeup, I was allowed to leave the set and ostensibly return to the beach cottage for our extended five-hour lunch break. The photographer wanted to wait until the late afternoon sun was _just_ right, which gave us plenty of time to put our plan into action. My bodyguard supervised us retrieving food from the catered buffet that House of Gabriel had provided, and then disappeared to the front of the cottage from which sounds of a football match were emanating. The four of us bolted down our food the moment he left the small dining room we’d settled into, and then Marinette beckoned us up the steps to the next floor where half of the bedrooms were.

Marinette pushed the door closed behind her as we entered the room she was sharing with Alya. Quickly she moved over to one of the beds and doled out sweats and hoodies to each of us. I was startled slightly to see mine happened to be what I’d worn to the set that morning, and I wondered how she’d managed to retrieve it from the makeup trailer.

“Transform and then put these on,” she said as she looked to Alya. “According to Google maps, the office is less than five kilometers from our current location.”

I held up the hoodie in my hands. “This will make it kinda hard to leap tall buildings in a single bound,” I pointed out with a frown.

“We’re trying to stay under the radar,” she reminded me. “Someone snaps an Instagram post of us sailing over the rooftops of Los Angeles, and we’ll have real trouble back in Paris.”

“Good point, Milady,” I said as four kwamis phased in from the floor above. One look at Tikki told me how she felt about the enterprise we were about to undertake, but was holding her tongue.

Multiple transformation flashes later, four quasi-normal looking teens were walking in pairs down the cracked concrete sidewalk, away from the beach and into what passed for metropolitan Santa Monica. Cap had been forced to leave his shield back at the cottage, well hidden in the room I was sharing with him; for my part, the hoodie was crunching my feline ears in a most uncomfortable manner. 

If I had been worried about standing out in our workout gear, seeing the eclectic nature of the population of Santa Monica quickly disabused me of that notion. We passed all manner of person, including two clad in amazingly accurate replica hero costumes of Spider-Man and Thor, taking photos with tourists. “We didn’t need a costume for our costumes, apparently,” I muttered to Ladybug. “Cap could have passed for one of those Ninja turtles.”

“Stop mewling, Chat,” she joshed good naturedly.

“You’re not the one whose ears are—”

“Says the Chat to the Fox,” Rena interrupted with a nudge and a glare when I turned to her.

“Ah, sorry Rena,” I apologized. “I furget I’m not the only one with extra on top.” I paused. “Though I think—”

Ladybug put a hand to my arm as we crossed a side street. “Chat, do you see that dark sedan in the alley off the left?” she asked. “Don’t make it obvious when you look,” she warned.

I casually glanced where she indicated. “Yes,” I said, narrowing my masked eyes. “Two very formal dudes are watching us quite closely,” I added, leaning on my superior feline vision.

“We passed another vehicle a few blocks back, come to think of it,” Rena added. “It was the same size and color.”

My ears went up despite being under the hoodie. “I don’t believe in coincidence,” I said under my breath. “LB?”

“Me either,” she said. “I think our little trip might need to be postponed,” she continued as she palmed her yo-yo and snapped it open to the mapping application. “The next intersection, we can turn, drop our transformations and make a beeline to the beach behind this street—"

“Guys,” Carapace said quietly. “Don’t look now, but we’re being followed.” He paused. “Uh, by those two in the clown outfits we passed earlier.”

I glanced over my shoulder and then picked up the pace with Ladybug. “How tall is Spider-Man supposed to be?” I asked of our resident hero expert.

“I dunno,” Rena replied. “Maybe one-hundred and fifty centimeters? Plus or minus? Some paper here in the States scored an interview with him last year. I have a link to it in my ‘other heroes’ portion of the Ladyblog.”

I growled. “Any chance _I_ might get out of that section?”

Rena laughed quietly. “It is called the _Lady_blog, Chat.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You don’t really think it’s him, do you?”

“Normally I’d say no, since heroes don’t generally leave their home city,” I said as we started to move a bit more rapidly. “But the four of us prove that isn’t always a hard-and-fast rule.”

“It’s us,” Ladybug said. “Somehow they found out we are here in Los Angeles.”

I nodded. “And they called in the big guns.” 

Rena chuckled. “If that _is_ Thor, then quite literally.”

“Hang on,” Carapace said. “I don’t quite understand – they’re after us? Why?”

“Not to welcome us,” I breathed as my feline eye scanned the street. “Sedan’s moving.”

“Holy—”

“We’ve got to lose them,” Ladybug said as we ducked into the side alley she’d indicated earlier and started to shrug out of her hoodie. “And fast. But stick together – they might try to pick us off one at a time.”

The four of us broke into a run, shedding our quasi-disguises as we bolted down the narrow space. I winced slightly as my claws shredded the fabric, but a more pressing concern was the screeching tires of a black sedan as it wheeled around the far end and cut off our escape to the beach.

“Up!” I cried, grabbing Carapace around his waist and triggering my baton to rise quickly to the rooftop of the old brick building next to us. Ladybug looped an arm around Rena and rode her yo-yo up beside me, and the four of us landed, crouched, on a slightly-angled tarpaper rooftop. The relative safety of the wide beach was visible in the distance, seemingly easy to get to save for the hulking presence of Thor and the crouched form of Spider-Man.

“Uh, hi,” I said, switching to English as I shifted into my own pounce-crouch. “Know any good dairies? I’m looking for the purrfect glass of milk.”

“I’m sure you are,” Spidey say as he carefully circled toward us. “Who are you, exactly?”

“Would you believe tourists?” I replied as we regrouped into a protective half-arc, keeping Thor and his spinning hammer on one side, and Spidey on the other.

“No,” the somewhat accented voice of the God of Thunder said. 

“We’re gonna need you to come with us,” Spider-Man said. 

“I’d love to, but my calendar is kind of full,” I replied, arching a masked eyebrow. “If you talk to my people, though, we can see what we can do squeeze you in.”

“You talk a lot,” Thor said as he menacingly twirled that massive hammer of his.

“It’s a gift,” I replied. Our group shrunk a little as the two closed in on us, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Ladybug clicking one of her dots on the exterior of the yo-yo. I made a guess about our next move and focused on our new friends, slowly spinning my baton. Compared to Thor’s hammer, it felt a little underwhelming as a weapon.

_They’re delaying,_ I thought to myself. _And while I’m not sure that they could handle the four of us combined, they _could_ make the attempt. That tells me something… and I need to delay _them_ a bit, too. _

Smiling my best Chat smile, I turned my masked visage on the _other_ bug on the roof. “Say, Spidey – can I call you Spidey? Who does your costume? Did you make it yourself?”

Nonplussed, Spider-Man paused in his approach. “Well, I didn’t make this one,” he answered. “Tony—”

“Kid,” Thor rumbled.

My masked eyes narrowed. “Ah, a minder,” I sighed. “Not trusted to be on your own yet?”

“Hey!” Spidey said defensively. “I work with the---”

“_Kid_,” Thor rumbled louder. 

A feline ear flicked. “Another car below,” I said under my breath to Ladybug, swapping quickly to our native tongue. “And maybe two more down the street. They are surrounding the building.”

“Any moment now,” she replied in French. “I hope.”

There was a rooftop stairwell access point off to one side, a rickety-looking wooden affair that I had written off as an escape route fairly quickly. The door opened, revealing a man with balding hair, designer sunglasses and a suit straight from some clearinghouse for Secret Government Employees. Stepping over to us quickly, he was followed by several paramilitary-styled soldiers who trained sci-fi looking rifles on the four of us.

“Hello,” the man said with a pleasant smile. “I don’t want to harm any of you, but I_ am _going to have to insist that you come with us, please.”

My masked eyes flicked to the guns. “Are those to… encourage us?” I asked with a trace of a growl.

“You could think of them in that way,” he smiled. “I’m sure it won’t come to that.”

I started to reply when my ears flicked again. “Behind us,” I said quietly to Ladybug, reverting to French. “Go. I’ll hold them off.”

“I’m not---”

“_Go_,” I said. “I need you to get them to safety.” I smiled at her. “Besides, this is what I do best.”

She looked at me and nodded. “Be careful,” she said softly.

Switching back to English, I took a step forward; as I expected, many of the guns shifted toward me. “Hey—hey!” I said, paws out and ears up. “We’re all friends here, right? Take it easy, folks. Let’s talk about this,” I continued, stepping further forward and getting more of those nasty looking weapons aiming at me.

Ladybug used my distraction to whip around and grab Carapace and Rena; the three of them leapt over the edge of the rooftop and through the portal Pegasus had opened on the street below. As pandemonium broke out on the rooftop, I moved forward a bit more to place myself in the path of the swarming soldiers.

I was rewarded with a bolt of something from one of those ray-guns; in a fraction of a second, my world went completely dark.


	55. Making New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat is recruited to help SHIELD take down a villain holed up in the very animation studio he and Team Miraculous had been planning on visiting._

My head was pounding – that was the first thing that came back to me. 

Groaning, I tried to open my eyes against the throbbing in my brain; it took a moment for me to realize the world was sideways because I was laying on the floor. Blinking hard, my vision finally came into focus as I laboriously pushed myself up from the cool surface. Idly, I noted I was still transformed; it seemed that my costume had done its job, save for the whole passing-out thing. Then again, it would have been far worse to have woken up as Adrien Agreste, stripped of any of my Chat abilities as I faced whatever was ahead of me.

Folding myself into a seated cat position, I saw I was in an industrial space; I appeared to be inside of some sort of circular glass-walled cell in the exact center of the room. Looking down, I realized the floor was actually clear, showing an iris of a door just below the cage. My ears went up, for that just _couldn’t_ be good. Looking up I could see a protected light source, behind the same thick glass or plastic the cage was made out of. And it was a cage – that much appeared certain.

I took a deep breath to steady myself, for I generally didn’t react well to being cooped up.

Reaching to the small of my back, I nodded to myself when I grasped air; clearly someone had assumed – rightly – that my baton could be a weapon. But it also meant I couldn’t contact Ladybug, which would be problematic. I could only hope that the magic we used to track each other would still work without the baton being in my physical possession. Looking out through the clear walls, I thought I could see it sitting on a small bench bolted to the far wall.

There was a substantial vibration running through the space, confirming what my feline hearing had already deduced: we were moving, though in what manner, I wasn’t particularly sure. It was clear to me, though, that I was likely no longer in Santa Monica, and I wondered slightly at how my bodyguard was reacting to the sudden disappearance of the star of the photo shoot. I felt a little bad, for he had consistently gone out of his way to make my life better, be it taking me to Marinette’s on the down low or looking the other way when Nino appeared to play video games at the mansion. I’d have to make it up to him, somehow.

A double-door slid open beside the workbench and I turned my attention to the tall man striding through it. Clad in a leather trench coat and an eyepatch, he swept across the catwalk to the door of the cell, then leaned sideways to press a button on the outside. “Who are you and why the Hell were you in Los Angeles?” he asked without preamble, his voice forcefully issuing from hidden speakers.

“Would you believe—”

“You’ve got one shot,” he cut me off before tapping another button. 

My masked eyes were drawn to the clear floor, where the door below the cell cycled open. They went wide when I saw clouds and, far, far below, what looked like a coastline. I looked back at the man with slight apprehension. I’d dropped from a height lower once before, but the Eiffel Tower and a certain yo-yo had helped keep me from becoming a Chat pancake.

“One shot,” the man repeated. “Don’t waste it.”

I swallowed. “My name is Chat Noir,” I said. “I… had business in Santa Monica.”

Eyepatch stared at me, hard. “What sort of business?”

“I can’t disclose that,” I said truthfully, “other than to say it was benign.”

There was a long moment of silence before he continued. “Are you honestly telling me that four distinct signatures of quantic energy suddenly appearing in Los Angeles is _benign_?” he said.

I couldn’t help my masked eyes going wide. “How do you know—”

“We have smart people,” he said offhandedly. “And a field office in Paris.”

My feline ears flattened. “Then you know who I am.”

“Maybe,” Eyepatch said. “We’re analyzing the energy pattern you’re putting out right now to confirm. But you could be one of those sentient thingamajigs, too.”

“Sentimonster,” I corrected.

He waved his hand. “Whatever. _Why_ are you in the States, Mister Noir?”

I nodded slightly. “If you are worried that we were tracking an akuma or sentimonster, I can assure you that’s not the case. As far as I know, Hawkmoth hasn’t operated outside of Paris.”

“Look,” he said. “We’ve turned a blind eye to your activities in Paris---”

“You _what?_”

“We track everyone,” he said casually. “And you haven’t needed any help in Paris, so—”

“Who’s tracking us?” I asked hotly. “Who _are_ you?”

Standing, I deliberately walked toward him; I was tall for my age, but not as imposing as this guy, but I nonetheless tried to stretch myself as high as I could go by the time I was face-to-face with him. “_Who_ are you?” I asked again in my dangerously quiet voice. “And what _exactly_ do you know about me?”

“If you _are_ Chat Noir, then not much,” Eyepatch admitted carefully. “An uncertain number of metahumans appeared about a year ago in Paris, led by a creature known only as Ladybug. Chat Noir is her primary partner; over the past few months, we’ve seen the team temporarily augmented by members with distinctly differently abilities, presumably as needed by Ladybug for a particular situation.”

I nodded slightly.

“While we suspect all of the individuals we track—”

I growled a bit at that.

“—live and work in Paris, their true identities remain unknown to us.” He paused. “Most importantly, though, our agents have reported that in all cases observed, this team was endeavoring to protect the city and its residents. We’ve had trouble tracing and confirming this Hawkmoth you mentioned, though.”

“He exists, believe me.” I arched a masked eyebrow. “Metahuman?”

“Uh, humans who have special abilities,” he explained quickly.

“Ah,” I nodded, deciding I’d neither confirm nor deny his assumption.

The doors opened again, and the balding man I’d seen earlier appeared, carrying a small digital pad. He stopped next to Eyepatch. “It’s him, boss. Scans confirm it.” He looked back to me. “We also confirmed that the other three appeared in Paris just a few moments after disappearing from Santa Monica.”

“Neat trick,” Eyepatch said as he looked at me anew.

“Another member of our team,” I said as I examined my claws. I still wasn’t comfortable sharing anything with these characters. At least, not until I was out of the cage and had my trusty baton back in my paws.

“I’m Director Fury,” Eyepatch said as he triggered something on the panel. “I believe you’ve already met Agent Coulson.”

The massive door below the cage closed while a glass door in the side of it silently slid open, allowing a gust of fresh air to fill the small cage. I stood firm, despite the obvious invitation to exit. “Director of _what_, exactly? And you would mind explaining _why_ you took me into custody in the first place?”

Fury looked at me. “I run an organization called SHIELD,” he said simply. “We prepare for the unexpected.” He looked at me again. “You were, in a word, unexpected.”

I blinked and carefully stepped out, noting I was a good two heads shorter than Fury. “People tell me that all the time,” I smiled slyly. “But I _am_ the black cat of stealth.”

“Clearly,” Coulson chuckled and turned to his boss. “I’ll prep the team.”

“I’ll be down shortly.” Turning to me he said, simply, “Follow me.”

* * *

The conference table was at the rear of a massive control center on what I learned was something called a heliocarrier; I didn’t have much time to process that as Fury immediately began to explain why I found myself in his care. I tried to ignore the fact that the people in the space – all of whom were professionally dressed in a kind of uniform – seemed to take it in stride that a feline-themed superhero was casually chatting with their boss.

“Last night, our LA office picked up traces of quantic energy in Santa Monica,” he started. “It was nearly ephemeral but was so close to what we’d recorded in Paris it deserved to be looked into.” Sipping a coffee, he continued. “It went off the chart around noon; we already had a team on the ground looking for you at that point, so it was fairly easy to track you down.”

I nodded, knowing that was about when the four of us had transformed. _That means they can partially track the kwamis; when we activate them, it’s almost a beacon._ I filed it away for later.

“And now you are here,” he finished. “Until we could confirm your identity, you can understand how we’d naturally want to be cautious.”

“Naturally,” I snarked.

He raised an eyebrow. “God-damn. Another teenager,” he said with exasperation. “Why must they keep saddling me with _teenagers_ for—”

“What do you mean, _another_?” I interrupted, arching a masked eyebrow. “I could be old – like thirty-five!”

Fury laughed. “You and Spider-Man would get along great,” he answered enigmatically.

I blinked. “Do you think I could actually meet him?” I said, tossing all pretense aside and embracing my inner fanboy. “Some of my teammates would like that too. If they were still here.”

Fury looked at me. “Can you get them back?” he asked.

My ears shot up and my sense of self-preservation kicked in. I narrowed my masked eyes as something else occurred to me. “You weren’t just looking for us in Santa Monica, were you?” I asked.

Eyepatch shifted. “I’m not exactly at liberty to discuss that.”

A half smile appeared on my face. “You _need_ us,” I nodded slowly. “Even with Spider-Man and Thor… you have a situation and we magically dropped into your lap unexpectedly.”

Fury smiled slightly himself. “Our intel on you is all wrong,” he said. “You’re not just the brawn in the operation, are you?”

I shrugged. “I am whatever Ladybug needs me to be,” I answered. “That’s always been my role.”

Considering me a bit, Fury came to a decision. “We _could_ use your help. You and your fellow team members might be uniquely qualified to assist SHIELD. In exchange, we may be able to provide some help to you upon your return to Paris.”

“Tell me more,” I said, twisting my feline ears. “I’m all ears.”

* * *

“It’s not an akuma, per se,” I told the small image of Ladybug on my baton. “But from what Fury has described, it seems to be _acting_ like one.” I smiled crookedly. “Luckily for SHIELD, we appear to be the only Miraculous holders available.”

She looked at me skeptically. “Can we really trust Fury?”

Once Fury had decided I could be allowed into the circle of trust, he’d provided me access to all of the information on what seemed to be an unusual metahuman who had holed up in the very building we’d intended on visiting. From the high-tech scans he’d shown me, the waves of energy coming off of the creature within the building matched closely with the akuma tracking his team had done in Paris, though it unsettled me that they had such good data on akumas. Considering we’d been dealing with them in our own way, seeing pure science turned against magic was a little weird. And yet, seeing the graphs side-by-side on the tablet I was using, it was easy to comprehend why they’d been so concerned when the four of us had appeared in Los Angeles.

I had explained all of that to Ladybug once Fury had returned my baton to me. “Yes,” I said. “I think we can.”

“All of us?”

“The base four,” I nodded. “I think it might be wise to keep the rest of the team under wraps. I’m a little worried the more info we provide, the greater the chances…”

“I understand,” she replied with a smile. “Where shall we meet you?”

“Where it all began,” I winked.

“You are going to be missed,” Ladybug said quietly.

“Not if we are really lucky,” I smiled wider.

Ladybug looked at me askance. “What did you do this time?”

“I’ve made some new friends, Milady. Some who even come with a ‘get out of jail free’ card.”

“Oh Lordy,” she frowned. “We’re doomed.”


	56. Direct from the Page to the Screen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Reassembled again in Southern California, Chat and Team Miraculous begin to investigate the possible akuma for SHIELD – with help from one newly added recruit._

“Did you make _your_ suit?”

“In a matter of speaking,” I replied, working hard to keep my inner fanboy under control.

I tried to mask my goofy smile as I turned toward our newest – albeit honorary – member of Team Miraculous. Director Fury was so certain our unique talents were up to the task at hand that he’d sent the SHEILD force that had been in Santa Monica down the coast from our location to investigate the appearance of what he termed a “suspicious artifact.” All, that is, save for one rather exuberant Avenger who appeared eager to make some new friends. The irony I’d swapped one bug partner for another wasn’t lost on me. 

Spider-Man looked me over again – at least, that what I _thought_ he was doing, for I was finding it hard to read his expression behind those mechanical eyes in his mask. “You hid the seams pretty good,” he said appreciatively. “Is the zipper—”

“It’s decorative,” I said hastily, hoping to derail the conversation. “Though the pockets are functional.”

Those odd eyes of his went wide. “Then how do you get in and out?”

Ladybug and I had been of a similar mind to keep our cards close to the vest, unwilling to provide too much information to our new friends from SHIELD with respect to our Miraculous magic. Both of us were unsettled to no end that they had apparently come up with a scientific way to track us – especially when transformed – so the less they actually knew about us, the safer we felt. It was likely self-delusion on our part, and deep down I think we both realized we needed to consider our options when we returned to Paris. I felt as though Master Fu’s amazing ability to avoid detection over the last century might be able to provide us with some guidance, but on the other hand, he’d never had to stay hidden from machinery designed to look (virtually) under every rock.

The fact they had nearly located us in our civilian forms at the Santa Monica beach house had seriously unnerved me – much more than I had shared with Ladybug. So I looked away, leaned around the cupola we were hiding behind and quickly changed the subject. 

“Are you really sure something is in there?” I asked, tail tapping against the roof. “We’ve been keeping watch for some time now, and even my superior feline eyes aren’t picking up anything.”

Unfortunately for me, Spidey wouldn’t let it go. I’d only been hanging out with him for a short period but had already determined he was nearly as curious as a cat, with an intellect to back it up. I heard him slide down his webbing from where he’d been hanging wrong way round from the overhang and then flip into what I presumed was a crouch quite similar to my own. It was hard not to stare, for he was as graceful as a dancer in his movements: fluid, and in full command of every muscle. But I kept my masked eyes firmly planted on the building across the street despite the soft rustle of fabric beside me.

“Dude, all of your team members have outrageous outfits! You’ve got to tell me how you created them. I mean, mine is pretty sweet, but this one is from Mister Stark. I’m almost embarrassed to tell you about my first costume.”

_That_ caught my attention, for I assumed he was talking about Tony Stark, the ultra-rich tech entrepreneur and very public member of the Avengers. I chanced a glance and was shocked to see Spider-Man had slipped his mask off. He was holding it toward me, stretching the fabric as he spoke. “There was no way I could have created something like this,” he was saying excitedly. “I’d drawn up plans for a smart neural interface while I was working out the formula for my webbing---”

“Uh… look, its clawsome you want to take our relationship to the next level, but, uh…”

He turned his face upward toward mine and it quickly registered both shock and embarrassment. As tall as he had turned out to be in real life, I’d assumed he was college-aged. But seeing the youthful face that had been hidden beneath the mask quickly led me to conclude he might be a year older than me, or two at the most. I wondered if he had the same challenges I did, trying to balance school and love with being a superhero. Not to mention all of the normal hormonal challenges a teenage male was forced to endure at that point in our lives. I tried not to smile at Spidey’s obvious discomfort.

“Mister Fury is gonna kill me,” he groaned. “Everyone on the Avengers knows who I am,” he explained as he idly crumpled the mask in his gloved hands. “I’m so used to pulling off the mask to talk to them, I forgot who I was with.”

“Ours don’t come off quite so easily,” I laughed as my masked eyes narrowed in good humor. “I purromise to keep this between us.”

He smiled as he pulled the mask back on. “Thanks, Chat,” he said, voice muffled once more by the fabric. “Do you always do that?” he asked belatedly.

“Make people feel better?” I said as I turned back toward the building. “Yeah. It comes with being a feline.”

“No – I meant those puns of yours,” he replied.

I chuckled. “It’s part of my persona as Chat,” I started. “I didn’t realize I was doing it until Ladybug called me out on it.”

“So your civilian self isn’t that corny?”

I laughed again. “Oh, he’s a true nerd.” I turned back to Spidey. “The mask frees me from the insecurities of my day-to-day existence. Allows me to be the person I want to be.”

“I kinda understand that.”

I looked back across the street. “The longer I’m in this gig, though, the more Chat traits seem to pop-up in my alter-ego.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Let’s just say I have a hard time passing through sunbeams.”

Spidey laughed. “I can imagine. Do you go to school?”

Realizing Spidey had been pumping me for information, I sighed. _Not bad, Fury,_ I thought_. Pair me with a teenager and hope I’ll lower my guard long enough to reveal more than I should. The only good news? Spidey has unwittingly done the same._

“This isn’t really the time to compare notes,” I reminded him gently. “But if we get through this, maybe we can—”

The earwig I’d inserted before accessing the roof beeped and Ladybug came on. “Kitty, we’ve got some movement from our angle.”

Spidey’s eyes went wide. “Kitty?” he repeated. If he hadn’t had his mask on, I was sure I’d see he was grinning wildly. “Are you two—"

I groaned. One more secret blown. “Later,” I whispered with a _not now_ gesture.

“Chat? What was that?”

“I’m here, LB,” I said louder, my frowning masked visage still facing Spidey. “Want us to circle around?”

“Not yet,” she replied, and I could hear some humor in her voice. “Carapace is on his way to what looks like a loading dock along the rear. Rena, what can you see?”

“I had a great line of sight into what looks to be the main office space on the second floor; that is, until just a moment ago,” Rena’s voice said. “The windows have been occluded now by splotches of paint – at least, that’s what I _think_ it is. In every color imaginable.”

“Damn,” Ladybug said and paused for a moment; I could nearly hear her thinking across the open line. “Chat… do you see that small tower on the roof?”

I scanned the rooftop. “Yes,” I said. 

“I think we need a more forward approach,” Ladybug started. “You and Spidey head for that tower – unless I miss my mark, it has to provide some sort of access to the building.”

I groaned again as I pulled out my baton and snapped it open. “Milady, I am a fool,” I said as I furiously tapped clawtips on the device.

“I know _that_,” Ladybug laughed. “But I thought that was only over me.”

Ignoring the look I knew I was getting from Spider-Man, I continued. “I’ve accessed the building plan database here in Los Angeles County. One second…”

Spidey leaned around to look over my shoulder, the fabric of his costume whispering as he moved. “How on Earth did you do that?” he asked, amazed.

“It’s an app on the baton,” I shrugged. “I have to admit, I wasn’t sure it would work outside of Paris but—gotcha! It’s decorative, LB, but it has a maintenance hatch that leads into the HVAC system its hiding.” I looked up at the building. “There appears to be a small access corridor leading to the second floor.”

“Can you get over there easily?” Ladybug asked.

My masked feline eyes flicked upward. “Yeah, I can leap and then helicopter.” I looked to Spidey.

“Easy-peezy,” he said, looking at his fingers.

I rolled my eyes. “Did you—”

“Yeah. All right, head over and use all of those stealthy black cat tactics of yours to see if the two of you can sneak in. I’ll converge with Rena and Cap from three other sides; Cap will see if he can get in through the loading dock, and Rena will try the front.”

“And you?”

“There’s some sort of employee entrance on this side, I think.”

“Uh, Chat,” Spider-Man suddenly said. “You’re never gonna believe this…”

I looked up, and then over to where he was pointing, masked eyes widening at what I saw. For the base of the building had started to glow in a manner similar to when akumas transformed - a bubbling, violent purple and black energy wave slowly moving up the side of the building. Two pedestrians that happened to be on the sidewalk beside the building jumped back but not fast enough; little globules of the purple wave detached from the building and quickly enveloped them as they screamed. A moment later, two cartoon versions of humans appeared, with exaggerated heads and colorful clothing that matched the splotches of color on the inside of the windows of the second story.

I frowned. “This is not good.” I turned toward Spidey, only to groan as I watched him shoot out one of those weblines of his and take off. “Dear kwami. There goes the neighborhood,” I said to Ladybug.

Ladybug swore. “He’s almost as impulsive as another hero I know,” she said, not without a trace of fondness in the admonition. “We’re aborting my earlier plan – Cap, Rena, stand down. Chat, go rescue the kid before he gets into trouble.”

“Kid?” I laughed as I leapt up into the air.

“If the shoe fits,” she chuckled. “I feel a bit like we have a few miles more under our belt than he does.”

“I think you’re right,” I said as I helicoptered behind Spider-Man, who was gracefully arcing down to the rooftop below me. He landed in that strange spider-like crouch he did, and not to be outdone, I dropped in beside him in my pounce-crouch. “You didn’t even say goodbye,” I admonished. “That really hurt my felines.”

“Oh! I thought—”

“Change in plans,” I said. “It would be best to see what this becomes before it fully changes; that way, we’ll know what we’re getting into. Cats tend to observe their prey before pouncing,” I added, arching a masked eyebrow. “I don’t know how spiders---whoops!”

Normally light on my feet, I found myself unexpectedly sliding across the roof. Deploying my claws, I arrested my movement and turned an accusing glare on Spider-Man, who hadn’t moved so much as a centimeter. 

“I stick,” he reminded me with a laugh. 

“Not funn—”

It took being thrown in the _opposite_ direction (and repeating ten deep grooves in the rooftop) for me to realize the building itself was somehow moving. That it had, in fact, pulled itself up from the foundation. “Are we moving?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Ladybug confirmed in my ear. “Have you ever read _Baba Yaga_?” she asked. “Because the horror show I’m witnessing is straight out of that story.”

I looked to Spider-Man. “Let’s get out of here,” I said urgently. 

“With a bit more alacrity, Chat,” Rena suddenly cut in. “That purple wave is almost to the roof! From what I’ve seen it do to civilians---”

“What about the akuma in the building?” Spider-Man asked. “Don’t we need to go after it?”

“Safely,” I reminded him as I readied my baton. A feline ear swiveled as the electrical-crackling noise of the transformation wave surged over the edge of the roof and bubbled toward us. “Come on!”

I leapt upward and extended the baton to launch further; Spider-Man didn’t follow and I paused at the tip of my baton. Glancing down, I could see he was looking intently at the purple wave as it raced toward him from all sides. Swearing, I descended. 

“Don’t make me tackle you,” I growled as I landed next to him once more. “You have no idea the dark magic we’re dealing with! This is dangerous stuff! Come _on_!”

“If we get a sample,” he said calmly as he produced a small vial from his belt, “I can analyze what we’re working with. Then we can formulate a better plan.” He turned his head upward. “Cats observe their prey, you said? Well, spiders take the added precaution of wrapping them up first.”

“What the _hell_ are you---”

Spidey said something under his breath and then shot a small string of webbing with an unusual circular pod at the end of it into the purple wave; I blinked when I realized the pod was open on one side. Much like we’d seen on the street below, a globule detached from the crackling field to intercept the webbing. To my amazement, the pod opened further, swiftly engulfing the glob. With a quick flick, Spider-Man yanked it back and into his awaiting small vial, which snapped shut. A shimmering green glow lit up the interior as he looked back at me. 

“_Now_ we can go,” he said as he leapt up and away.

Swearing in three languages, I vaulted upward after him, barely clearing the purple wave as it washed over where we had been standing.


	57. Life Imitating Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Team Miraculous Plus One take on an what for all appearances seems like a bona fide akuma, one intent upon turning everything – and everyone – into an animated item that it can control._

You’d think that staying ahead of a small-sized office building as it strode purposefully down the streets of Santa Monica atop chicken legs would be a fairly easy task, but as it turns out, not so much. For each and every step it took transformed the very pavement it was walking upon into an animated version of the golden brick road; in fact, it seemed almost as if it were trailing a wave of that purple akuma-ish transformation energy, coating everything in its wake and shifting the landscape into a wildly outlandish color palette generally reserved for the movies. Transformed palm trees swayed and sang unintelligible gibberish; pedestrians became spectacularly diverse animated versions of themselves. Whole buildings were moving up and down in time with a soundtrack we couldn’t yet hear. Even the poor pigeons who had been minding their own business eating scraps from empty park benches were getting caught up and transformed into clownish creatures, making me very thankful Monsieur Ramier was nowhere close at hand. 

One akuma was bad enough.

_If it’s even an akuma_, I thought as I hurled myself forward, trying to keep a few meters ahead of the building. _It has all of the hallmarks of one, but I’ve never seen this sort of monster mash of an akuma and a sentimonster. _

Flipping around a light post, I landed atop the bulb and tried to catch my breath. The effort involved had my chest heaving, and I as looked across to street, I could see Ladybug was similarly winded from her perch in a tall pine tree of some sort. But there was no time for a break, for the building was upon us once more. Leaping away, I zig-zagged and ping-ponged between trees, buildings and even a few delivery vans; Spider-Man was keeping pace with me in what appeared to be a nearly effortless glide through the skies on his webbing. Being just a tad bit competitive, I flung my feline body forward with a massive pogo-stick vault from my extended baton, and managed to sail past a very surprised spider; hitting the side of a building, I ran along the brick perpendicular to the ground, knowing it was a trick he could also do.

The extra burst of machismo put some significant distance between us and the akuma, something I blithely noted as I landed atop a stoplight twenty meters further down the street and perched. Chest heaving, I turned my masked visage toward our pursuer and was annoyed to see it had already halved the space and, in fact, seemed to have picked up the pace.

“I feel a bit like _I_ am the mouse in this game,” I muttered as I narrowed my eyes at the building.

Spider-Man appeared from nowhere and gracefully alighted on the cable holding up the stoplight that was now swaying beneath me. I tried to hide the fact that I was having trouble perching. “What game?” the bug asked me.

“Seriously?” I rolled my eyes. “Cat and mouse? It’s not as funny when I have to explain the jokes…”

“Sorry,” Spidey said with a chuckle. “You really get into this role-playing thing, don’t you?”

Smiling, I turned back to the akuma-thing. “Who says I’m playing?” I asked before narrowing my masked eyes in growing frustration. The building-atop-chicken-legs had halved the distance again in those few short moments, giving us less time than I realized to come up with a plan.

“Uh oh,” Spidey said as he somehow managed to work his way down the thin ribbon of cable toward me. The stoplight swayed dangerously beneath me again, though, and my feline hearing heard the groan as the mounting points strained under the added weight of two – albeit svelte – superheroes. “Is it me, or did that thing find another gear?”

“It’s not you,” Ladybug said over the earwig. “What do we assume it’s going after?”

“So far, nothing specific,” Spider-Man replied.

“Near as I can tell, it’s simply following this street,” I added as I popped open my baton to Map mode. “Though it’s gonna need to make a choice at this intersection – it can only go north or south. South looks like it ends at a massive parking lot for the beach; north connects to a freeway and then seems to funnel into downtown Los Angeles.”

“I’m from New York,” Spidey said with a smile in his voice, “but I do know that if it goes north, it’ll eventually end up in Hollywood and several of the largest movie studios in the world.”

I frowned as my feline ears twitched at the growing cacophony heralding the approach of the sizzling transformation energy. “But that building housed a studio, essentially. Why would it want to go to Hollywood?”

“Dubois Brothers,” Rena said suddenly. “Of course!”

“Of course _what_, exactly?” I asked.

“You don’t read the trades, do you Chat?” Rena chuckled.

_Only the modeling ones, _I thought. “Just the _Feline Times_, fox. What did I miss?”

“It hit the internet last week. Dubois Brothers is one of the two oldest movie studios in Hollywood; they got their start in animated shorts back in the early twenties. They’ve not done much other than remakes of classic movies over the past decade, but announced last October they were going to produce a new superhero movie. It was their attempt to cash in on the sudden popularity of comic books.”

“I’m still missing—”

“The two main characters are a cat-themed and bug-themed superhero duo. Gender reversed, of course.”

I blinked. “Can they do that?”

“No, but the lawsuit is still pending.”

The building was uncomfortably close now. “North then,” I surmised, “to wreak vengeance on their competitor.” I looked to Spidey. “We’ve got to slow it down. What did your analysis come up with?”

Spider-Man cocked his head and listened to a voice that was nearly too soft for my feline hearing to pick up. “Definitely a form of quantic energy,” he said after a moment. “Similar wavelength to what we picked up when the four of you arrived, although many multitudes of order higher.”

“The geography of this intersection might help us,” I said thoughtfully. “Especially how narrow the streets are and the proximity of the buildings.” I turned to Spidey. “Can you stop it with your webbing? Or at least slow it down?”

“Maybe,” Spidey said as he looked over my shoulder. “I could run something back and forth across the street between the buildings. I’ve done something similar a few times, but I’ll need a few minutes to spin up something,” he added as he checked something on each wrist before putting a gloved hand to his waist and groaning. “Damn. I only have enough fluid to do it once, so if we can’t stop it...”

“That should be enough for us to do our thing,” I said with more confidence than I actually felt. “LB—”

“We’ll back you up,” she said quickly. “I’m almost ready to call for my Lucky Charm. I have a sense that we are looking at some sort of modified amok.”

“With an akuma at the helm?” I asked.

“If I had to guess, it would be the producer that felt slighted by this other studio. What do you think?”

“Other than my concern that an akuma/sentimonster just happens to appear in Southern California while we’re here…?”

“Exactly,” she agreed. I heard the wind through the open microphone as she moved positions. “It’s too much of a coincidence. I can’t be sure without asking our mutual friend, but I don’t believe Hawkmoth can control anything from this distance.”

My masked feline eyes flicked up to the approaching building monstrosity. “All evidence to the contrary.”

“There’s a reason it’s called ‘magic,’” she laughed. “I’m in position.”

I nodded at Spider-Man and the two of us leapt away from each other. I landed in a crouch just a handful of meters in front of the building, which actually stopped and _leaned_ down at me.

“Hey,” I said companionably as I heard Spidey start to shoot out multiple lines of webbing at the north end of the intersection. “You seem a bit lost…” I started and then ducked as Carapace’s green shield sailed over my feline ears and hit one of the chicken legs.

I rolled sideways and landed next to Cap who caught the shield as it ricocheted back into his hands; in a blur, he heaved it again on a different line and then dove to catch it on its new return arc. I didn’t wait to see if it had an effect before snapping my baton into threes and hurling one piece after another at the same spot.

Diving forward, I came up from a tumble paws outstretched to catch the returning baton. I, too, repeated the process, resulting in Carapace and I hopscotching around the intersection as if we were playing a mad version of dodgeball. The building creature had come to a stop just at the edge of the intersection; based on how the chicken legs were impatiently stomping up and down, it was clear the barrage was at the very least uncomfortable. 

Cap regrouped with me in the middle of the intersection, and I glanced backwards to see that Spider-Man had managed to web over the north exit from the intersection and was nearly done with the south. “What if it backs up?” Carapace asked me.

I turned toward his worried expression. “It’s already been there,” I said. “I’m counting on it wanting to push forward, not backward.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said as he loosed his shield once more.

To our surprise, the building picked up a leg and smashed a claw foot down atop the shield grinding it into the animated pavement. In mere seconds, it was enveloped in that purple wave and became a colorful manhole cover. “Damn,” I breathed as the building took a triumphant step into the intersection.

Cap and I backflipped several times to land on the sidewalk behind us. I didn’t need to turn around to know there was no way but up for us. Extending the baton, I started to reach for Carapace so we could head for the relative safety of the roof when Ladybug dropped down in front of us, carrying some sort of spray nozzle attached to a polka-dotted vat of liquid she’d slung over her back. My feline nose wrinkled at the acrid smell coming from the vat. “What on Earth---"

“Paint thinner,” she said cheerfully. “Stand back, boys,” she warned as she trained the nozzle toward the building and pulled the activation trigger on the device.


	58. Strange Coincidences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As the afternoon drags on, one question remains: can the team defeat the akuma before Adrien is needed back on the set?_

Ladybug trained the nozzle toward the building and pulled the activation trigger on the device. A plume of clear liquid shot out and hit the side of the building, just above the chicken legs; nearly instantly, the animated façade we’d been looking at started to melt into rivers of paint that dripped down in colorful splotches to the street below. Almost as if it were alive, the building recoiled and turned away from the onslaught, but Ladybug anticipated the move, redirecting to a different spot that was exposed by the shift.

“I’m going to clear the door I saw earlier,” Ladybug said as she turned up the volume of the spray. “Find the akuma!”

“Got it,” I said, my feline eyes already tracking the doorway and calculating the best angle to get there. 

I paused for a moment longer and then leapt upward, baton at the ready. Ladybug twisted her spray away from the door she’d revealed just as I crashed through it, feet first; I slid a few meters down a corridor before my rubbery soles stopped me. To my surprise, a fraction of a moment later, Spider-Man slid to a stop next to me.

“Crashing the party?” I asked as I flipped into a pounce-crouch. The corridor looked surprisingly normal, though it was shrouded in darkness.

“Why should cats have all the fun?” he rejoindered. “Besides, Mister Fury was adamant about chaperoning you.”

I blinked. “I’m not sure you were supposed to tell me that,” I said softly as the two of us crept down the corridor side-by-side.

“I wasn’t,” Spidey chuckled. “Consider it proof that we’ve moved to the next level of our relationship.”

“You are welcome to visit us in Paris any time, Spidey,” I replied impulsively.

“I’d like that,” he said. “I doubt it’ll happen, though,” he said sadly.

“Never say never.”

We rounded a corner and came to a wide area that appeared to be an open floorplan office. I knew that animators routinely worked on computers now, but it was still sad at how corporate looking it felt. Somehow, I’d expected to see old-fashioned light tables. The space was devoid of people, and the floor shifted every so often as the building attempted to avoid Ladybug’s ministrations.

“If I were an akuma…” I said out loud. “Corner office?” I asked, nodding a feline ear to a large glass space in the corner. Telltale flickers of colorful light were escaping the frosted windows.

“If it means anything, my spider sense is going nuts. So yes.”

“I could use that ability,” I said under my breath as we approached and paused a few meters away.

“It does come in handy.”

“LB, I think I might be in position.”

“Good, because I’m running low on thinner.”

“Then I’ll hurry,” I said as I snapped my baton apart again. In a quick move, I hurled the two parts at the glass and then dove; the panel shattered into thousands of pieces, exposing the office beyond. As I captured the returning baton pieces, I watched as Spidey wrapped what could only be considered a caricature of every producer everywhere in a solid layer of webbing.

“Gift wrapped,” Spider-Man said proudly as we carefully entered the space.

The akuma – and I could tell for sure now it was just that – was babbling incoherently, so I tuned him out while I scanned the space. “We’ve got the akuma, sort of,” I said over the earwig as my eyes fell on a complicated set of levers that had clearly sprouted out of a massive executive style oak desk. A small monitor was also there, showing an exterior view of the building. “And this building is defelinely some version of a sentimonster, controlled from this spot. What do you suppose I’m looking for?”

Rena piped in again. “Look for some sort of legal paperwork,” she offered. “If the lawsuit was the tipping point, stands to reason it would be close at hand and likely the object in question.”

I looked at the desk again and my smile appeared. “Maybe not paperwork,” I said softly as my eyes caught on a pen that had been angrily rammed into the solid oak of the desk. “Ladybug, could the amok and akuma be in the same object?”

“No,” she replied. “But they _would_ be close together.”

“Good,” I said, “because that’s the only way my Cataclysm is going to work. Ready?”

“Are you sure you’ve found it?” Ladybug asked.

“Yes,” I said as I raised my hand – but not before looking over my shoulder at Spidey. “Uh, stand back a bit…?”

“Oh! Sorry.”

“Cataclysm!” I cried.

I heard Spider-Man actually gasp as he watched the power of destruction flow into my hand; I wasted no time in bringing it down on the pen and desk in one swift motion. I gambled – correctly, it seemed – that since they were fused together, my superpower would work as if they were one object.

The desk and pen both dissolved in a puff of ash; as the feather of the amok and the akuma butterfly appeared, we felt the building start to shake and then drop to the street as it was released from the magic. Ladybug’s yo-yo smashed the window of the office, cleanly snatching first the feather and then the butterfly in rapid succession.

“How did she do that?” Spider-Man asked with awe. “And what was that you just did?”

I laughed. “You’d better hold on,” I advised, for I could see through the smashed window Ladybug was winding up to call on her Miraculous Cure. “You’ve not seen anything yet.”

* * *

A half hour and one set of recharged kwamis later, I met up with Spider-Man on the same rooftop across from the animation studio where the whole mess had started. LB and the rest of Team Miraculous had headed back to the beach house to assess whether we’d been missed at all, while I’d been delegated to wrap up our adventure with our new Avenger friend.

Spidey was leaning against the brick half-wall I landed upon. “Hey,” he said cheerfully as I folded myself into a seated position. “I spoke with Directory Fury. He’s a tad annoyed that I wasn’t able to give him any insights into how your powers worked, or whether you are actually meta-humans in the first place.”

My masked eyes widened. “Are you going to be in trouble?” I asked.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he laughed, the smile evident in his voice. “There are times when it’s handy for me to play the ‘inept teenager’ card. This was one of them.”

I smiled. “From what I’ve seen, you’re anything _but_.”

“Let’s keep that between the two of us,” he said. “You are also in luck – SHIELD was able to track down and eliminate any video recordings of the four of you here in Santa Monica. You know, security cameras and the like.” He paused. “Tourists may have caught you, but Mister Fury thinks they’ll assume you were street performers.”

“Nice.” I looked at him for a moment while I considered how to broach what Ladybug and I wanted to get across to our friend. “Look, LB and I are worried that this is some sort of expansion by Hawkmoth. Despite all of your SHIELD tech, this is some dangerous magic and I’m not sure you can handle it without our help. And…” I paused. “We’re a little concerned about how you are able to track us. In _and_ out of costume.”

Spidey’s mechanical eyes narrowed. “I imagine,” he said after a moment. “Your secret identity is to protect those you love, just like mine.”

“Exactly.”

He tapped a finger against the brick. “Got you covered,” he said softly. “I intern at Stark Industries, which just happens to have a connection to SHEILD. I fear the data they’ve collected on Team Miraculous is about to get corrupted.”

I smiled wider. “You are defelinely going to need to visit us in Paris, my friend,” I said as I held out a paw for a handshake.

“Not if you’re going to use puns like that,” he laughed as we shook.

* * *

Sneaking back into the beach house through the rooftop patio, I detransformed and hurried to the main floor. By my phone’s clock, I was about an hour from being called to the set; the sun was still quite a bit above the horizon, and I smiled to think at how useful this particular photographer’s penchant for light had been. It was nearly enough time for the four of us to play a round or two of Xbox and – if I could wheedle my bodyguard enough – maybe get some food, too.

Rounding the small landing of the staircase, I called out as I trotted down the final steps to the dining space. “Guys? Do you want to---”

I froze on the bottom step, my green eyes connecting with the steel grey of my father’s. “Adrien,” he said simply, hands clasped behind his back as always.

“Father,” I said. “When did you get in?”

“I’ve been here for a few days,” he said. “I can straight here from Asia so I could meet with the firms that will be producing advertisements for House of Gabriel this year. Didn’t Nathalie tell you?”

“No,” I replied, genuinely shocked. While it wasn’t unusual for me to go days without seeing him at the mansion, I had just assumed he was home when Nathalie had recalled me from the Bakery. Then again, his travel schedule was generally not shared with me, either. “And when she didn’t come with us—”

“She arrived this morning,” he continued as if I hadn’t been speaking. “I needed her help for some rather unexpected last-minute developments.” He paused, looking at me with that cold expression I’d long gotten used to. “Shouldn’t you be on the set?”

“I have some time,” I said, leaning on some Chat belligerence. 

“You should go,” he said with an edge. “Before it appears as though you are somewhere you shouldn’t be.”

I blinked. _Was that a warning?_ I thought. _I think it was. But of what…?_ “Of course,” I said. “Let me tell my friends—”

“They’ve already left,” he said simply.

“Oh,” I replied. “I’ll see them at dinner, then.”

“You misunderstand. I’ve sent them back to Paris. You don’t need any further distractions while you complete this photoshoot.”

I tried to keep the sudden bubbling of anger in check. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“I think it was,” he smiled without a trace of warmth. “Your bodyguard will take you directly to the airport after you’re finished tonight. You’ve got a two o’clock call tomorrow afternoon in Paris for a magazine spread that I need done before your schooling interferes with our schedule.”

_Ouch_._ A red-eye flight into a photo shoot? What did I do to deserve that?_ I wondered before realizing I might likely be paying the price for having the audacity to enjoy the trip to California.

“Father—”

“I’ll see you back in Paris,” he said simply before exiting the room.

I stared at the door he’d used for a full minute before saying, softly, “Yes, Father.”


	59. Slow to the Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Troubled by what happened during their Southern California trip, and exhausted by the relentless schedule his father has forced him into, Chat is pleasantly surprised when Plagg conspires with Tikki to carve out time for a visit with Marinette to recharge._

Two weeks into January, my tail was dragging.

Nearly from the moment my plane touched down in Paris, my days had become a whirlwind of modelling, school, and extracurriculars. Without having my phone by my side, it would have been hard to have known what day of the week it was; adding to the blur of action, Hawkmoth continued his daily attacks on the city, though the times were all across the board. For every mid-afternoon akuma, we saw one at midnight.

The relentless schedule imposed upon me by both father and Hawkmoth had left nearly no time to hang out with Marinette – or anyone else for that matter. I saw her in class, of course, and as Ladybug whenever we were called to action, but was sorely missing being with my girlfriend. In some ways, I felt as though _both_ Hawkmoth and Father were trying to destroy my relationship with Marinette through sheer attrition. While I was reasonably sure Hawkmoth didn’t know Adrien had a soft spot for the raven-haired beauty, Father had certainly made his feelings known at that fateful breakfast months ago after Ladybug had saved me from becoming a permanent black kitty. And there was no denying the subtext of his decision to send my friends home from California without me.

A part of me did wonder if Hawkmoth had picked up on Chat’s visits to the Bakery, though, for admittedly I’d not been as careful as of late. It was the kind of move he’d make, and not for the first time I worried about putting Marinette and her family in danger. I decided I’d have to discuss it with Marinette – assuming I ever had a chance to catch another private moment with her on the rooftop patio.

By the end of that second week, I’d had enough and flopped onto my bed late on a Friday, despairing ever having any free time again. My usual nightly escapes as Chat had become difficult, partly owing to how exhausted I was but also due to the insane schedule Nathalie had created that often didn’t end much before eleven most evenings. I might not have been the smartest blonde on the block, but the combined actions of her and my Father seemed to telegraph a desire to cleave me from the social connections I’d so carefully built up since starting public school. Father I understood, for he’d never truly wanted me to venture out into the word; Nathalie, as always, was a bit harder to figure out. At times, such as when she booked the tickets for my friends, I thought she might care for me, however slightly; at others, she was simply my Father’s assistant, dutifully fulfilling his edicts.

Plagg settled into the pillow next to my head and I turned to face him. “I’m glad _you’re_ still around,” I sighed. “I think I’d have gone stir crazy without at least one constant friend in my life right now.”

My kwami smiled gently, an unusual expression for him and one that once more belied the soft heart he hid beneath his crusty exterior. “I’m not going anywhere, kid,” he said as he leaned back into the pillow. “But I think both of us will be going out later this evening,” he added with a trademark smirk.

“God, I hope not,” I mewled, a bit of my cat tendencies appearing. “I’m sick unto death of two a.m. akumas.”

“I wasn’t talking about an attack,” he smirked a bit more. 

“Wha--?”

“Kid, get some sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

“Go? _Where_?” I sat up and reached for my phone. “Ladybug didn’t set this as a patrol night, did she? Oh my God! Did I miss a chance—"

“You missed nothing,” he said. “Sugar Cube and I have something cooking – literally – but I need you fully rested before we go out.”

Arching an eyebrow, I glared at my kwami. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he said innocently. “Now get ready for bed. I have some movies to catch up on while I wait.”

Recognizing that Plagg was, in his own way, trying to change up things a bit for me, I smiled slightly and swiftly went through my bedtime routine and slid under the sheets a few minutes later. Inexplicably excited for the first time in a while, I thought it would be hard to sleep but quickly nodded off the moment my head hit the soft pillow.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been dead to the world when I felt a gentle tickle of a whisker at my ear. “Kid,” Plagg said softly. “Time to transform!”

I cracked open an eye and could see it was just after two according to the phone propped up beside the bed. “You never willingly ask me to transform,” I accused as I stretched and yawned.

“Special circumstances,” he smiled a bit. “Marinette is waiting for you at the Bakery.”

I reached for Plagg and held him in what passed as a hug between us. “Thank you for knowing I needed this,” I said.

“Me? I didn’t do anything,” he protested as he squirmed out of my embrace. But I grinned, knowing better.

“Plagg – claws out!”

I was still tired as I soared into the night a few moments later; despite my costume, the evening was chilly, and the breeze caused by my movements had an icy nip to it. Still, it felt good to have the wind rushing through my wild mane once more, and not because I was hurrying to an akuma attack. 

A few blocks out from the Bakery, the smell hit my feline nose and my masked face broke out into a wide grin. Picking up the pace just a bit, I soared out of the sky and landed with a gentle rubbery _thump_ atop my preferred chimney. “My Princess has been busy,” I said by way of greeting, my masked eyes widening at the sight below me.

Marinette was just putting an empty plate down atop the small side table she had carefully set for two and looked up with a smile. “Hey Kitty! I see you got the message.”

“Well, one of us did,” I amended as I leapt down to perch on the railing. My tail twitched in anticipation as my feline eyes fell upon the triple-tiered chocolate cake that had caught my attention on the way in. “What is the occasion?” I sniffed the air carefully. “And is that… Belgian chocolate?”

“Hand grated, I might add,” she smiled wider, pleased that I had picked up on her efforts. “As to occasions, do I have to have reason to spoil my favorite feline?”

“No,” I said as I slipped off the railing and pulled her into a hug. “Never. But at two in the morning…?”

Marinette pressed her head into my costumed chest. “I’ve seen so little of you as of late. And to be honest, I’d been looking forward to spending New Year’s Eve with you.”

I groaned, for Father had interrupted _that_ plan by forcing me to be at a benefit gala, performing a few of his preferred piano pieces for the gathered crowd as the clock struck midnight. “Same here, bug,” I said softly as I stroked her head. “Since California, my schedule has gone bonkers. I’m starting to feel as though Father wants to squeeze what little life I had outside of the mansion into oblivion.”

She looked up at my masked eyes. “Funny,” she said with a thoughtful look. “I was thinking the same thing.”

My eyes widened. “I know how he feels about me dating you – heck, dating in general. And sure, he’s told me plenty of times that he’s overly concerned about the world and how it could hurt me. Losing Mother has made him a tad overprotective.” I smiled as I turned up my ring hand and looked at the reassuring glow of the pawprint. “If only he knew how little he needed to be concerned…”

Marinette pulled away from me and took me toward the table, where I folded myself into a sitting cat position; by rights, I should have de-transformed, given that she knew the boy beneath the mask. But I had to admit to selfishly wanting to experience the pure joy of her baking with my full set of feline senses. She seemed to sense this and simply smiled as she took up a position on the opposite side and carefully sliced the small cake into quarters. “Look, Chat, I’ve been thinking.”

My paw paused in midair on its way toward chocolate fulfillment. “You’re not about to break up with me, are you?” I asked, the horror and dread clearly in my voice. “Did I do something?”

In an instant, Mari was by my side and pulled me into an embrace. “Don’t you ever think that again, Kitty,” she said sternly. “That’s my fault – I need to remember that you are fairly new to this ‘love’ thing. Just so we’re clear, my feelings for you can’t be changed just like that – and no, you’ve not done anything other than bring pure joy to my life.”

“Okay,” I laughed. “Good to know.”

She leaned into me again, the cake momentarily forgotten. “I’ve been thinking about how odd it was that the akuma appeared while we were in California. It just happens to be there the same time as us.”

“It was too much of a coincidence,” I agreed. “But that would have to mean that Hawkmoth knew we were going to be there,” I continued, masked eyes widening as I made the next leap. “That he knows who we are!” I exclaimed as I pushed her away a bit to look at her fully. “Did he find out? Is he someone _we_ know?”

“Calm down, Kitty,” Marinette said in her best Ladybug voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I took a deep breath to steady my racing pulse. “I’m so tired that I get wound up pretty fast right now.”

“I don’t think he knows our civilian identities yet, no; but I do think it was a test of some kind. It’s not a secret that Pegasus in on our team now, so it might have been something as simple as seeing if we’d travel overseas if needed.”

“Which we did,” I nodded; despite my efforts, my pulse was still racing. “But there also have to be photos of Adrien in California, right? I am a supermodel after all.”

Mari chuckled. “I hate to break it to you, Kitty, but while you might be famous here in Paris, in California celebrities are a dime a dozen. Alya checked already for me and your trip didn’t appear anywhere in social media.”

“Anywhere?” I tapped a claw to my chin. “Well, there goes my plan for world domination.”

“You’re only a teen, Chat. Give it a year or two, at least,” she chuckled before suggestively dropping her eyes to my midsection. “Once that six pack gets a bit more defined, I suspect you’ll be on magazine covers everywhere.”

Feeling my face flame a bit, I smiled weakly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Milady.”

“There is one aspect that still troubles me, though,” she continued. “We know Hawkmoth has to be fairly close in order to control his akuma – we learned that during the Star Train incident. So it stands to reason that he was there with us, which leaves us two unsettling possibilities.”

I nodded again. “That he has some sort of portal ability, like Pegasus?”

“Right.” She looked at me carefully. “Or he travelled with us to California.”

My ears went straight up. “Gorilla is the only one who was with us the entire time,” I said softly. “But he’s with me nearly twenty-four seven. I can’t believe he’s Hawkmoth!”

“Does Adrien seem anything like Chat, Chat?” she reminded me gently. “It’s quite possible his alter-ego is as wildly different as the personas we use.”

I thought about that, for it was true that Chat wasn’t outwardly anything like Adrien – save for the fact that Chat _was_ the Adrien I wanted to be. Could that be the same for my bodyguard? “It seems like a stretch,” I said slowly. “But we probably need to figure out how to verify it.”

“Exactly.” She slid around the table again and finished handing me my slice. 

I stared at the amazing chocolate wonder, but all traces of appetite had vanished at the thought my bodyguard might have secretly been Hawkmoth all this time. We didn’t talk much – heck, hardly at all – but he always seemed to have my best interests at heart, unlike other members of my Father’s staff. The only time he’d been akumatized, his whole mission had been to protect me, even then. It seemed like a stretch that he’d also be willing to put me into danger to lure out Chat and Ladybug.

As I drew a clawtip through the frosting and tasted the divine chocolate, I thought back to California, replaying the entire weekend in slow motion. It felt a bit like there was a clue there that was screaming out to me, but it was just on the fringes of my fur brain. Suddenly it was there, and I looked up at Marinette, eyes bright. “I think I know how we can determine if it’s Gorilla,” I said excitedly.

“Aside from keeping him close for a few days?”

“We’ll do that too,” I agreed, “but this might rule him out faster.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“Are you up for a quick trip to New York?” I asked. “I think we need to have a chat with our new Avengers friend…”


	60. Asking for Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Author’s Note: Needing to get a handle on whether Hawkmoth is too close for comfort, Chat turns to a new friend overseas for help._

“Are you sure this is the right school?” I asked.

Pegasus smiled and tilted his head down to look at me over the rims of his spectacles. “Chat, based on the student parameters you gave me, this is the only magnet science high school in the tri-borough area of New York that has an eighty-seven point six three two chance Spider-Man’s alter-ego might attend.”

“Eighty-seven point six?”

“Three two,” Pegasus laughed. “In short, trust the math.”

I sighed and went back to peering over the edge of the rooftop parapet we were hiding behind, my masked feline eyes scanning the students wandering the campus of the high school we were just outside of. “We don’t have a lot of time,” I mewled. “If we’re wrong—”

“We’re not,” Pegasus said. “And now that I’ve recharged, I can get us back to Paris in an instant.”

I sighed again, for he was right. With the time change between Paris and New York City, I’d been able to meet up with Pegasus for what I’d hoped would be a quick trip to America to try and catch Spider-Man during that small window of time after school but before I’d need to make sure Adrien had appeared at the mansion. Ladybug had opted to stay in Paris on the off-chance Hawkmoth decided to make a play while I was gone; snapping open my baton, I saw we still had the balance of my golden hour left.

Still, my tail twitched with impatience.

“This would have been easier if you’d just given him your baton number,” Pegasus pointed out. “Not that I mind an unexpected overseas trip.”

A wry smile appeared on my masked visage. “I’ll keep that in mind… if we ever find him.”

“Trust the math,” Pegasus reminded me with a chuckle. “Have I ever been wrong?”

I turned and trained an arched masked eyebrow on my teammate. “Other than the one time Markov tried to take my Miraculous?”

Pegasus had the good sense to flush slightly. “Point taken,” he said.

I turned back to the school scene, feeling each minute tick by in almost a physical sense. The building was not very attractive compared to the classic lines of Dupont; it was, from all outward appearances, a massive concrete structure with sets of rectangular windows at regular intervals. U-shaped, the bulk of the structure wrapped around some sort of massive courtyard which had been full of students nearly from the moment we’d stepped through the portal onto the rooftop across the way.

As with most buildings I’d seen in the States, a massive flagpole had pride of place along the street, which itself was full of traffic at a density twice that of Paris. It was a wonder these people managed to get anywhere on time.

About ten minutes into our vigil, I’d all but begun to despair that we were in the wrong place when I saw a familiar mop of hair burst through the front door of the school. The tall but muscular kid paused in the courtyard and then carefully – but deliberately – started to make a beeline for a sliver of an alleyway beside the school.

A Chat grin lit up my face, for it was a maneuver I well knew.

“I think I see him,” I said to Pegasus, careful not to give away Spider-Man’s civilian identity. “Stay here and I’ll go intercept him.”

“Sounds like plan. I’ve got my earwig in, too.”

“Good idea,” I nodded as I pulled out my baton and twisted it sideways. The small communications device fell into my paw and I quickly slid it into my human ear. “This meownt take but a minute.”

I leapt into the air and helicoptered over the street, landing on the edge of the school’s roof. Trotting a few meters, I flipped over the edge and dropped onto a fire escape landing nearly soundlessly, perching on the rusty railing just above the alleyway. My tail twitched as it hung over the edge, and I tried not to smile _too_ much as I silently watched Spider-Man struggle below me.

He had his shirt off, exposing the stylized spider logo on the torso of his costume, but was cursing a sneaker that appeared to be unwilling to participate in the quick change experiment he was conducting. Hopping around on one foot, he had two gloved hands wrapped around the offending footwear which finally came off with a _thump_ as it sailed into the dark reaches of the alleyway.

“Damn it,” he cursed again, loudly, as he shucked out of his jeans and carefully folded them into a backpack that was leaning against a dumpster. “Where did that wind up?” he asked the silence as he pulled his mask on and started to hunt for his missing sneaker.

I squinted, my night vision lighting up darkness. “To your left,” I said pleasantly in English.

Instantly, Spider-Man was up and clinging to the wall across from me; I narrowly avoided the first blast of webbing that came my way, but he caught me in mid leap with a second. I landed in a tangled heap of stickiness on the rather foul-smelling brickwork of the alley floor. “Hey now,” I said somewhat crossly from my side as I tried to flex myself out of the rather tight bands he’d wrapped around me. “Is this how you greet _all_ of your friends?”

I watched as Spidey detached himself from the wall and gently landed next to me in a crouch. “Chat? What the Hell!”

“In the fur,” I said, then narrowed my masked eyes. “Tell me you can dissolve this stuff off of me?” I flexed again, trying to tamp down my rising anxiety at being constrained. “No offense, but I’m not a huge fan of spider webs.”

“Yeah, hang on,” he said as he snapped something off of his utility belt. I hadn’t noticed how many little gizmos he had hidden around his waist. “Sorry, that was pure instinct. Do you _always_ sneak up like that?” he asked

“Stealth is one of my specialties,” I smiled as he spritzed something along the webbing. It started to bubble. “I _am_ a black cat, after all.”

“Ah,” he said, before adding thoughtfully. “I’ll have to work a bit on knowing my surroundings, it seems. You didn’t trigger my spider sense, so I didn’t catch you until, well, I caught you.”

“I would have called first, but as my teammate reminded me, we never got around to exchanging numbers last time we saw each other,” I said as I flexed again. This time, the bands snapped and I was able to flip into a cat crouch. “I’m sorry I surprised you.”

“No worries,” he said as he put the small device back into his belt. 

“You are a hard bug to track down,” I smiled at him. “I need your help, but if you are on the way out to save New York, I can come back.”

I could tell from his voice he was smiling under the mask. “Maybe not New York,” he laughed. “Just my internship. I’m late getting over to Stark Industries for my independent study period. I was, uh, cheating slightly by web-slinging my way to the lab.”

“I’ve been known to transform in order to shave some time off my commute,” I smiled. “Do you have a moment, then?”

“It’s nearly impossible balancing being a superhero and a student, isn’t it?” he said as he fished his cell phone out of another hidden pocket and tapped it. “I’m already screwed,” he sighed. “Sure. What do you need? I have to admit, I didn’t expect to run into you again so soon.”

“I’ve something of a conundrum,” I started. “And I think you might have the data to solve it.”

“Data?” he laughed. “You’re speaking my language.”

“Ladybug and I think our nemesis, Hawkmoth, might have been in Southern California the last time we met.”

“You said he had to be in close proximity to control his akumas and – what was the other thing? Sentisomething, right? That would make sense.”

“Sentimonster, yes,” I nodded. “The problem is that we are reasonably certain now that Hawkmoth might be someone known to us – known to our civilian selves.” I paused, and tapped a claw to my chin. As I’d been answering Spidey, it dawned on me that Mayura had to have also been in California.

_Both Hawkmoth _and_ Mayura? In California when we were? That’s not a coincidence. But it doesn’t change what I need from Spidey. I do need to talk to Ladybug again, though, for it might blow a hole in my theory about Gorilla._

_Which wouldn’t be a bad thing, would it?_

“…do?” Spidey was asking.

I blinked. “Sorry, I spaced for a second.”

“I asked you what you thought I could do?”

“Two things,” I said. “First, how accurate was the tracking that you, uh, sabotaged?”

“Pretty,” he nodded before shifting uncomfortably. “I found out after you left that, despite what Director Fury told you, they had anticipated sending updated software and equipment to Paris for testing by our SHIELD agents there.” He paused. “If my little accident hadn’t taken place, I suspect they were planning on finding out much more about you and your team. An uncomfortable amount.”

I blinked. “Does he think we’re dangerous?”

“Yes and no,” Spidey replied. “You and your teammates are an unknown, and until he has more information, _that_ makes you dangerous. Your efforts in California to the contrary.”

“Then I owe you more than I realized,” I said sincerely. “I’m sorry to have placed you in such a position. It wasn’t my intent.”

I heard the smile in his voice again. “I have plans to collect,” he replied. “Are you wanting to use the code, then? And the equipment?”

“If it still exists, yes,” I said. “I furrvently need to rule out at least one person in my inner circle. But if we can use the tech to narrow down _who_ Hawkmoth is, that will finally put us a step ahead of him.” I paused for a moment, then added quietly, “For we think he is close to unmasking us. And if he does _that_, we’re all in danger.”

“Why?” Spider-Man asked. “I mean, based on what I’ve seen already, he’s pretty dangerous as is.”

“Hawkmoth preys on emotions,” I replied. “If he knows who we are, he can target our friends and family – and possibly force the ultimate decision on us. Saving them versus giving up our—giving up,” I hastily amended.

“Your jewels?” Spidey’s eyes narrowed with the laugh.

My masked eyes widened. “How--?”

“Your ring beeped after you used that catawhatchamacallit, and I saw one of the pads wink out,” he said, pointing to it with a gloved finger. “Ladybug’s earrings did something similar. I don’t understand exactly how they operate, of course, but I think I have the general gist. And since it’s pretty clear that the two of you have opposite but complimentary powers, and based on how concerned you are about finding out who he is, I think I can safely assume that Hawkmoth getting his hands on them would be seriously bad.”

“You sound like Pegasus,” I accused, masked eyes narrowing. “He’s constantly throwing data at me.”

“I already like him,” Spidey nodded. “To answer your question, the equipment has all been moved to the Stark Industries Archives; there’s no way a lowly intern such as myself could access it now. Even if I do have the ear of Mister Stark,” he apologized.

“Oh,” I said, my ears drooping slightly. “Well, there goes that idea.”

“The equipment might be gone,” Spidey continued, “but I helped to design it the first time.” 

“Oh?” I looked back up, a half smile on my lips. “And I suppose you wrote the code, too?”

“Maybe,” he laughed. “The only problem is, I don’t have access to any materials to re-create it. I mean, the software can be done just about on anything, but the hardware, now that’s another thing entirely.”

My grin widened. “I think I know how to handle that end,” I replied. “If you don’t mind spending your next weekend in Paris.”

“I can,” he said eagerly. “But I can’t leave before my final class on Friday. Can you wait?”

“It’s Wednesday?” I said. “Yeah. If you can be ‘sick’ on Friday morning, though, that would be helpful.”

“I’ll have to concoct a believable excuse for my Aun—my parents,” he said. “What was the other thing you wanted?”

_Aunt?_ I thought. _Does his family situation mirror my own in some way?_ I wondered. 

“Fury told me SHIELD had been tracking the quantic energy patterns for a period before I arrived in California,” I said, filing away his near faux paws. “Can you possibly get your hands on that data? It would help us narrow down further who we should target in our out-Hawkmoth campaign.”

Spidey pulled out his phone again. “Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “I still have access to those servers through my internship. Do you have a way I can get it to you?” he asked. “I can send it this afternoon.”

“Yes,” I said as I snapped open my baton. “What’s your number? I’ll text you my Chat contact info, and I can forward anything you send me to Pegasus.”

“You have the _best _devices,” he enthused as he craned his masked head around to see my display. “I’m going to enjoy working with you, Chat.”

“Same, Spidey,” I grinned. “Now, what’s your number?”


	61. More Than You Wanted To Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Working with Spider-Man, Chat and company make an unsettling discovery._

“How does this work, exactly?”

I laughed. “Just step through,” I replied, waving a paw at the portal Pegasus had just opened. 

Admittedly, it was a jarring sight, for inside the sparking circle of energy was a nighttime view of the illuminated Eiffel Tower from a spot on the Trocadero. Pegasus was standing on the Paris side of the portal, waiting, and I was crouched on top of a massive skyscraper in New York, watching Spider-Man consider the magic. At least, as best as I could, since that mask of his quite literally hid all of his facial expressions.

“It’s purrfectly safe,” I reminded him. “I’ve used it plenty of times.”

“I know it’s silly,” Spider-Man laughed nervously, “especially given what I’ve seen as a superhero.” He twisted toward me. 

I sighed. Though I knew Pegasus could keep the portal open for a few more moments, I’d not anticipated my new friend would require so much time to be convinced. “Think of it as a souped-up transporter from _Star Trek_,” I said.

Spidey’s mechanical eyes widened, clueing me in that might not have been the best analogy. “There are some serious metaphysical issues surrounding that device,” he said. “Not the least of which is whether it’ll really be me stepping out on the other end.”

Pegasus signaled he was running short on time, and I sighed. “So, we do this the hard way, then,” I replied.

“What do you mean—”

With a slightly muted _meow_ish growl, I sprung from where I was crouching, having tactically positioned myself just behind Spider-Man. I gambled I would be faster than his spider-sense – a tall order, based on what I knew – but managed to tackle him, wrapping my paws around his midsection as we sailed through the portal together. He yelped in surprise, and though I felt him tense, he didn’t fight me off.

I wrapped myself further around him, allowing me to land in a tumble roll, not that he needed my protection from the rough stones of Trocadero. I let him go as I spun out into a roundoff up onto the half-wall we were close to; as I perched, I watched him spring away from me and snag a light post with his webbing, circling around to land on the cross arm much as Ladybug would do with her yo-yo.

“Not… cool,” he accused, those mechanical eyes of his narrowing at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I watched Pegasus sneak around to a darkened corner to recharge. “It looked like you needed a bit of encouragement. And we were running out of time.”

Spider-Man leapt down from the lamp and landed with a _thump_ beside me; with the time change, it had been late afternoon in New York and far later evening in Paris, making the wide space quite empty. We were behind our originally planned schedule as Spidey had trouble accessing the tracking data from our first trip to California; it had required another trip by him to Stark Industries after his classes were over, leading to our late-night (Paris time) rendezvous. 

“I partially forgive you,” he breathed. “This view is amazing.”

“I know,” I smiled. “It never gets old – at least not for me.”

“Or me,” Ladybug said as she dropped out of the sky to gracefully land next to me. “Good to see you again, Spidey.”

“Ladybug,” he replied. Spider-man looked sideways at me. “Does she always make such an entrance?”

“That, too, never gets old for me,” I replied with a wolfish grin.

“I knew it! You two _are_ a couple!” Spidey said triumphantly.

I blinked. “Well—”

“Not the time, Chat,” Ladybug interrupted. “Spidey, we gave Pegasus the list of materials you requested and have found a place to work. Ready to go?”

“Sure,” he said, but I could hear the smile in his voice. It was confirmed when he leaned closer to me and said, softly, “Busted.”

“Do you blame me?” I said, just loud enough for Ladybug to hear. “Look at that costume—”

I wasn’t able to avoid the yo-yo to the head.

We made our way through the night skies of Paris toward the edge of the city, where with Master Fu’s help we’d set up a workshop of sorts in a small studio space. This one was unique in that it was It was situated on the top floor of an old building and had a handy wide patio the previous occupant had used for painting watercolors of the Paris skyline. That made it perfect for stealthy superhero traffic.

I could see a light was on just inside the glass double doors to the main workspace as we neared, and smiled slightly as my ears pivoted forward to catch the strains of some electro-synth music. “Carapace got the party started early,” I laughed as I jogged along the ridge of a rooftop close to our destination. 

“Is that music?” Spidey said as he swung past us and then waited in a crouch at the edge of the building.

“He was feeling a bit left out of the festivities,” Ladybug explained as we both trotted to a stop beside him, “so he asked if he could provide some background music while we worked.”

“Statistics show that having the correct ambiance can improve problem solving skills in certain situations,” Pegasus added as he joined us. “I calculate a sixty-eight percent chance that we will finish early as a result of Carapace’s efforts.”

Spider-Man looked at me. “That would be cool,” he said. “I’d love a tour if there’s time.”

“I’d planned on it,” I smiled back at him, “but first…”

Together, the four of us leapt across the space to the studio; there was a slight height difference, so I helicoptered upward a bit before landing atop a perfectly placed chimney. My feline nose wrinkled, for there were foul smells faintly emanating from this particular chimney – nothing like the pleasing experience of the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. Below me, Ladybug and Pegasus alighted on the tiled patio; I swiveled my head to find Spider-Man glued sideways on the wall outside the studio. “That still amazes me each time I see it.”

“Me, too,” he laughed as he wall-crawled down and then flipped into a stand beside Ladybug. “Are you coming?”

“Ladybug and I are going to take turns keeping a watchful eye out,” I replied. “I’ve got the first round, but I’ll join you in a bit.”

“Okay,” he said as he followed Pegasus inside.

“Milady,” I nodded. “Do you want coffee or anything?”

Ladybug shot her yo-yo up and snagged the chimney with it; a few moments later, she’d pulled herself just below my perch. “What I want is for this to be over,” she said.

My masked eyes widened. “_All_ of it?” I asked. “I mean, yeah, I want to nail Hawkmoth as badly as the next feline, but I’m not sure I’m ready to give up being me.”

Ladybug smiled. “Oh Kitty, you’re so cute when you’re clueless.”

My eyes went wider. “What did I miss?”

Ladybug pulled herself up further so she could pull my face closer to hers. “You have always been you,” she whispered. “Someday you’ll understand. All that mask of yours did was show you what the rest of us have always seen.”

I could feel myself purring at her touch, but was also feeling a bit alarmed. “I know we talked about this months ago while eating your amazing pastries – that our job will be done and our kwamis will move on. Now I know for sure I’ll miss the gift that Plagg has given me. More than I realized, I think.”

“Other people and other places will need them,” she reminded me. “But you never know. The pragmatic part of me thinks defeating Hawkmoth would only open the door to another villain terrorizing Paris.” She looked away and at the glittering lights of the city we both loved and would furvently protect. “And I’ll tell you this: the two of us, the team we have,” she looked back at me, “we’re probably the best positioned to take on whatever might come at us next.”

“I’ll protect this city as long as I’m physically able, and then some,” I said softly with a certainty I didn’t know I’d had until that moment. “And I’ll always be by your side, Milady. Furever.”

“I know, Kitty,” she smiled. “I know.”

* * *

What I’d not told Spider-Man was that my alter-ego needed to be seen at the mansion early the next morning; while he and Pegasus toiled away over a mass of electronic pieces and several laptops, I took a quick patrol around Paris before returning to my bedroom a few minutes before being “awoken” by Nathalie. Tumbling out of the window I’d left open in the bathroom, I trotted to the door and pressed a feline ear against it. Why Father’s assistant wore high heels at six in the morning was beyond me, but it did allow a sly feline to get advanced warning of her approach as she tapped her way across the marble of the foyer toward the staircase.

Smiling, I flipped over to the shower and put a paw to the controls and waited. As her footfalls neared my bedroom door, I swiftly twisted the knob and stepped back, letting the water burst forth with billowing streams of steam to accompany it. I’d used this trick a number of times since becoming Chat Noir, and it never failed to work.

A moment later, there was a tapping at the bathroom door. “Adrien? You’re ahead of schedule this morning, but breakfast will be ready downstairs when you finish.”

“I’ll be down shortly,” I lied.

“Your father has an early meeting at the office this morning. I’m afraid he won’t be joining you for breakfast. Please focus on your schoolwork while we are out. I’ll review it this afternoon.”

“Okay,” I replied. It wasn’t hard to imbue my response with disappointment, for Father always seemed too busy to eat with me. Unless it was to dress me down for something I had done wrong. 

I heard her turn on her heel and exit the bedroom; while I let the water run for a few more moments, two things occurred to me: it had been wise to get that science paper written on Thursday evening, and Gorilla would be in a very specific place for a few hours. If Spidey had made enough progress overnight, we’d have an opening to test his equipment.

Turning off the shower, I leapt back through the window of my bathroom, and then vaulted out to the fence surrounding the mansion. I caught the sedan as it pulled away from the main gates and turned toward the offices of House of Gabriel, frowning a bit as it drove off. I still had a hard time believing my bodyguard was Hawkmoth; it would be good to prove or disprove that and get some peace of mind.

I vaulted away and toward the makeshift workshop.

* * *

“That’s… it?” I asked, unable to keep the incredulous out of my voice.

Pegasus slid his spectacles off and rubbed his forehead. “What were you expecting?” he asked, and I could hear how tired he was from the all-nighter he had just pulled.

I held the small rectangular gizmo up to the light, careful to keep it on the pads of my paw and away from the claw tips. “It’s smaller than I expected, I guess,” I said, turning an arched masked eyebrow on him. “And only has this one set of lights on it.”

“We went for simplicity,” Spider-Man said. “And Pegasus here was able to burn the code directly onto the microcircuits, so that made it far smaller than the prototypes I designed for Mister Stark.” I could hear some awe in his voice. “Peg is a rather brilliant engineer,” he gushed.

“That he is,” I said. “All right, walk me through it.”

“The battery is in the base,” Pegasus said as he picked up a second unit from the cluttered bench. “It should last for a full day, given the power needs of the sensor.” He tapped the top of the unit. “This is the business end,” he explained. “Point it in the direction you want to scan; these lights on the side will go from green to red indicating the level of quantic energy.”

He tapped it with a gloved finger and the gizmo chirped. “Tap once to turn it on, twice to disable,” he continued as he turned it toward me. 

I watched in fascination as the LEDs on the side shot directly into the red zone. “Ah,” I smiled. “Simplicity. What’s the range?”

“That’s the only problem,” he sighed. “Fifty meters, plus or minus. It’s a function of the power needed to run the sensor.”

“I think that will be fine,” Ladybug said, but frowned slightly. “Won’t it pick us up, though?”

Pegasus smiled tiredly. “That’s in version two,” he said. “Each of us has a distinct signature, based on the data Spider-Man provided. I didn’t have time to program out those specific waveforms, so for now, make sure you deliberately point it at your target.”

“We can do that,” she said as she put a hand on his shoulder. “Well done, Pegasus. Take a break for a bit why don’t you?”

He nodded.

“Ready for a test?” she asked Spider-Man.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stay here with Pegasus. I’ve got an idea about increasing the range I want to talk through with him.”

“Okay,” I said. “Carapace, that means you’re the protection squad until we get back. Call us immediately if—“

“Don’t worry,” he smiled. “I’ve got this and besides, Rena is on her way now. She finally wriggled out of that babysitting gig she had.”

“Purrfect,” I hummed as I turned to Ladybug. “Shall we?” I asked as I tucked my scanner inside a costume pocket.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she chuckled as she took my paw and we leapt out into the early morning sunshine.

* * *

House of Gabriel was, naturally, on the far side of Paris; even with our super-strength, it took a bit to traverse the rooftops of the city to get there. The sun was in its mid-morning position, making it extremely hard for me to ignore my feline impulses to curl up and absorb the golden rays. Stifling a yawn from where I was perched atop an antenna overlooking the building, I wondered when I might actually get a chance to catch forty winks. 

Trying to focus on the modern building housing my Father’s business, my masked feline eyes studiously avoided looking at the coffee shop one block down the street and instead took in the buzz of activity I could just make out through the massive glass windows surrounding what I knew was his corner office. I knew from prior visits as a younger kid it had a nice view of the Seine and the city beyond – visits from a time when I spent significantly more time with him. And my mother.

I blinked away an irritant in my eye and trained my feline vision on the action; it appeared Father was having an animated conversation with someone, but I couldn’t make out who it was as they had their backs to the window. Nathalie was hovering to the side of his desk. Glancing down to the side parking lot, I could see the sedan was parked in the VIP spot, but couldn’t determine if my bodyguard was behind the tinted glass of the car.

I smiled a wily Chat smile and popped open the baton; Ladybug picked up immediately. “I’m going to try and get close enough to test the car,” I said.

Her eyes widened. “It’s visible from your father’s office,” she pointed out.

I smiled wider. “I remind you I am the king of stealth,” I laughed.

“Be careful,” she said. “I’ve got a good line of sight on that lot in case you get into trouble.”

“Sounds good,” I replied as I signed off.

Extending the baton, I leapt up then dove down toward the concrete walkway beside the Seine; using the baton, I hooked a nook perpendicular to the walkway and did a loop around it to drop to the ground in a crouch. Taking off at a run, I raced toward the spot I thought was about opposite the lot and leapt up against the stone, then used my claws to dig into the rock to propel myself upward. My tail flapped as I leapt from rock to rock, and a moment later, I poked my feline ears and eyes just above street level.

The sedan was still in place, suddenly looming large given how it was just across the three-lane avenue. I knew from looking up the city planning ordinances that the road was around fifteen meters wide; allowing for some error in my math, the sedan by rights was well within the range that Pegasus had stipulated. I repositioned myself against the cold rockwork of the wall, pressing my boots firmly against the tiny ledge of stone as I slid the gizmo out of my costume pocket.

“Tap once,” I instructed myself as I used a claw to activate the device. It chirped at me, and then lit up to the full red zone; my masked eyes flew wide before I realized I’d pointed it at myself.

Quickly, I turned it around and pointed it at the sedan; the lights stayed firmly down in the green zone. I trained on the sedan for a few more seconds before starting to put it back into my pocket. 

_Not a fair test, I suppose, given that I don’t know if my bodyguard is in there. Oh well. Maybe I’ll take it home and---_

My internal monologue ceased as the side door to the building opened, and my bodyguard walked out. Quickly, I trained the gizmo in his direction. My heart skipped a beat as the meter ticked up into the yellow area.

_Oh no,_ I thought morosely. _It can’t be him!_

I didn’t have time for more, as the unknown person I’d seen from the office appeared, followed by Father and Nathalie. My feline ears went straight up, for the gizmo went completely red and started to vibrate for good measure. 

Glancing between the gizmo and the tableau across the street, I found myself frozen. At least one of the four people over there was wearing a Miraculous, but from my position, it was hard to know _which_ one it was. They were bunched up far too much for me to conclusively rule out my bodyguard without getting closer; the very thought of doing that sent a shiver down my spine, and I wasn’t entirely sure why.

It wasn’t lost on me, either, that three of the four people within the range of my device had also been in California with us. I looked at my father and then to Nathalie; Father had been akumatized once himself, which made it seem unlikely that he was Hawkmoth. Then again, I had thrown myself off a rooftop and refused to transform despite the real possibility of becoming a pancake in an effort to keep my secret identity. I could easily believe Hawkmoth would do the same to keep his alter-ego above suspicion.

I looked at him again with new eyes, then Nathalie, then down to the device in my paw.

_Well,_ I thought. _This didn’t turn out quite as planned, now did it?_

Father and Nathalie got into the sedan, and my bodyguard came around to the driver’s seat; it pulled away, leaving the fourth person standing there. I glanced down at the device one final time.

The lights were completely green.

Numb, I released my boots and one set of claws to drop quickly to the sidewalk by the Seine, irritating some pigeons. Stifling a sneeze, I popped open the baton and called Ladybug. “This just got way more complicated,” I said as I slid down against the stone. I closed my eyes.

“What happened?” she asked. “What did the device tell you?”

“More than I expected,” I replied quietly as I leaned my wild mane against the cool stone.

“I’ll be right there, Chat. Don’t move.”

I just nodded and closed the baton. It was the most I thought I was capable of doing at that moment.


	62. Closer to the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ladybug comes up with a plan to try and verify what Chat may or may not have confirmed at the offices of House of Gabriel… assuming everything comes off without a hitch._

Ladybug found me with my knees pulled up beneath my chin, arms wrapped around me as I pressed myself into the cold masonry of the river wall, thoughts rapidly tumbling over each other so quickly as to be incoherent. I was so deep into my self-protective fugue state that I jumped when she placed a gloved hand against my shoulder.

“Chat?” she said softly. “I’m here. Tell me what you saw.”

I shook my mane, trying to clear it, or at the very least impose some sense of order of my universe. For it was threatening to spin out of control.

“Did the device malfunction?” Ladybug asked. “Do we need to get closer?”

I took a deep breath. “It worked rather well,” I said quietly. “It ruled out whoever was Father’s guest.”

Ladybug looked at me, her masked eyes slowly opening as understanding dawned. Grasping at the same straws that I was, she slowly shook her head. “But your bodyguard is still on the short list.”

“Maybe,” I said as I looked down at the small device in my paw. “It went to yellow on the scale when he appeared, but….” I looked up at her. “Then Father and Nathalie came out right behind him. And it lit up like a Christmas tree.”

Ladybug looked down at the device. “Oh,” she said, before looking up at me. “This isn’t conclusive,” she reminded me. “I’m sure with Spider-Man’s help, Pegasus will have the upgraded version of this ready for us today. We can try again—”

“What more proof do we need, Milady?” I interrupted. “All three of them were in Southern California when we were – when the akuma hit! This—” I held up the gizmo, my masked eyes glaring at it, “—just confirmed that at least one of the three was wearing a Miraculous this morning.” I paused. “The only question I have for Spidey is whether it goes bonkers if it detects more than one.”

“There’s an easy way to test that,” Ladybug said after a moment. 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Yeah, there is,” I said as I shifted slightly to pull her close to me. 

Holding her, I twisted the gizmo around and pointed it at the two of us; unsurprisingly, it went fully red again and started to vibrate. I stared at it for a long second before tapping it to disable the sensor and save the battery. “_Merde_. I guess that’s that, then.”

Ladybug hugged me. “Let’s not jump ahead of the evidence, Chat,” she cautioned gently. “You managed to get a solid read from less than fifty meters; think like the scientist you are. What do we need in order to establish proof?”

“Milady,” I said, a tinge of anger in my voice. “What more _do_ we need? All three of them were in Southern California with us! The real question is how I missed Hawkmoth living under the same roof as me.” I looked away, fuming at myself. “All this time… all the people he’s hurt.” I looked back. “What if I could have stopped all of this sooner if I’d been a bit more attentive?”

“Chat, listen to me,” Ladybug said in her firm voice that always caught my attention. “It’s too early for recriminations - we need more data. But don’t be so hard on yourself,” she added as she pulled me in for a hug. “They were concealing their alter-egos much as you have. Look at it from the other side: you’ve been living under their noses as Chat Noir for some time now. It goes both ways.”

I looked at her, and I could feel the emotions I’d been trying to keep in check start to bubble over. “What if it’s… what if Father is Hawkmoth?” I asked, tears of anger starting to form. “It nearly undid me the last time we went down this path. If we were _right_ all those months ago…?”

“It just confirms Hawkmoth is as cagey as we suspected,” Ladybug said. “We need slam-dunk proof this time – and a way to draw out his acolytes.”

“Mayura?”

“Exactly.”

“Then we go to the mansion,” I said as I stood, my tail snapping at the abrupt movement. 

“Easy, Kitty,” she said, standing but putting a hand on my shoulder. “We need a plan, and it wouldn’t hurt to see if the upgraded device is ready for us.”

“No,” I growled. “I need to know. _Now_.”

Ladybug started to argue with me, but saw the look in my masked eyes. “All right,” she said as she pulled out her yo-yo and flipped open the phone, “but we do it smartly.”

“What are you implying?” I narrowed my masked eyes. “I wasn’t—”

“Right,” she smiled wryly as she started to dial a number. “Let’s just say I need to protect you from yourself at this point.”

* * *

I had to admit, Ladybug _was_ pretty good at pulling together a plan, even if it wasn’t around one of her Lucky Charm spells. Despite my agitation at wanting to rip the bandage off in an attempt to get at the truth, she was right in insisting that we go about it the proper way. And as plans went, this one was rather brilliant, but it had required me to cool my paws until nightfall.

My first impulse had been a brute force approach, with Chat Noir ripping the doors off the mansion as he brandished the scanner over every soul in the household. Ladybug had rather predictably decided not to use my suggestion but had instead calling upon our friend Viperion. Alongside Pegasus, Spidey, Carapace and Rena, Ladybug went through the final details with us on a rooftop a block or so from Agreste Manor just as the final rays of sunshine were sinking below the buildings.

“After Chat sneaks back into the mansion, he’ll verify where all of our targets are within the space,” she said. 

“Once I locate them, I’ll tag something in the space with one of these souped-up cat trackers that Spider-Man made for me,” I added, holding the small circle up to the light. “Then I’ll find a safe spot and hide.”

“Once I have the tracker on my screen,” Pegasus said, “I’ll open a portal to that spot.”

“I’ll step through,” Viperion said as he held up the scanner, “wave this thing at the first person I come across and then step back through.”

“And?” Ladybug prompted.

Viperion smiled that half smile that gave away his alter-ego each time I saw it. “I reset with Second Chance and then it’s lather, rinse, repeat for the other markers.”

Spidey shook his masked head. “You can really reverse time? Like Doctor Strange?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Viperion smiled again. “But It’s more like I put myself into a five-minute bubble,” Viperion explained. “And I’m the only one that remembers what happens if I have to revert to the starting point again.”

Spidey shook his head again. “You all have such… disparate abilities,” he said. “No wonder SHIELD wanted to find out more about your group.”

Ladybug smiled. “If this works, none of us will actually need to do anything more – or will remember that we did anything more. From our perspective, ‘Rion here will actually deliver the results to us just a moment or two after Chat signals he’s in position.” She looked around our small group. “Nonetheless, we will all take up positions around the mansion, for if Hawkmoth _is_ in there, and something goes off the rails, we’ll need to be ready.”

“Put in your comm devices,” I said as I twisted my baton and an earwig dropped out. “We stay in constant contact.”

Spider-Man cleared his throat. “Uh….”

I smiled and twisted my baton a second time, then handed him the earwig that appeared. “Here,” I said.

“Thanks. I’m just gonna sneak over behind this chimney so I can put it in,” he said as he leapt up and over the brick. “Some of us don’t have magical masks hiding our identities,” his voice called out.

“I think we’re ready,” Ladybug said as we waited for Spidey to return. “Stay on script, Chat,” she admonished. “This only works if you don’t blow our cover. Remember that.”

“I will,” I promised, though my tail tapped as I said it.

“_Promise me_,” she said firmly, glaring at me.

I sighed. “I promise, Milady. No unsanctioned adventures.”

“Thank you,” she smiled as Spider-Man dropped back down beside me. “Okay, positions everyone.”

Leaping up, I helicoptered across to the fence of the mansion and landed in a crouch, preparatory to re-entering my bedroom through the open window. I paused, though, when my feline hearing picked up a new whine that belied an unexpected companion. “Spidey,” I sighed as the red-and-blue costumed figure mirrored my perch two posts from me.

“Before you yell at me,” he said, holding up a gloved hand, “Ladybug insisted I stick close to you.”

I squeezed my masked eyes shut and put a paw to my forehead. “Of course she did.”

“I can hear you, Chat,” Ladybug reminded me over the open communications channel. 

I smiled. “I promised,” I replied.

“An American President once said: Trust. But verify,” she chuckled.

“Fine,” I grumbled. While I’d not truly planned on going beyond her instructions, I had wanted to be within the room when Viperion scanned Father. I suspected Ladybug had known that, too; it wasn’t an unsurmountable hurdle, but having a chaperone was going to make it more difficult. “Come on,” I said as I leapt up. 

I hit the sill of the window and vaulted down into my bedroom, landing in the middle of the space. Spider-Man sailed in past me, but vaulted up to land on the railing of the mezzanine overlooking the room. “Convenient that window was open,” he observed.

“It is,” I replied as I crept to the bedroom door and pressed a feline ear against it.

“How did you know it was open?” he asked as he lowered himself to the main floor on a thin strand of webbing. “

“Feline intuition,” I said.

“And would you look at all the stuff in this room? I’d never leave it.”

“Focus,” I said as I extended my senses as best as I could. “Foyer is clear,” I murmured as I cracked the door open. “At this hour, the bodyguard should be in his rooms on the floor above.”

“How—” Spidey started to ask.

“Go,” Ladybug said, interrupting my companion.

I open the door further and galloped across the landing on all fours, then up the short set of steps leading to the side of the house where Gorilla roomed. Staying below the railing, I pressed an ear to his door and heard the sounds of a rugby match. Smiling, I reached for my baton and twisted it twice to get a tracker.

Placing it against the door, I called in: “Bodyguard.”

“On the map,” Pegasus reported back.

Backflipping, I trotted back to my room and saw Spidey’s face at the door. “This next one is tricky,” I said as I waved him out. “I can hear muted conversation in the atelier---”

“The what?”

“I think you might call it a ‘den’ in the States,” I explained. “Ladybug and I have been here before, and know that is where Gabriel Agreste spends most of his time. It’s a good bet that his assistant will be there too.”

“Sounds like a safe bet,” Spidey nodded as we skulked down the main staircase. 

As we got closer, I was reasonably sure my feline hearing was picking up two voices now from the atelier, with one of them definitely being my father. At the bottom of the stairs, I waved Spider-Man off. “Stay there, this will only take a moment.”

“Got it.”

Twisting the baton, another cat tracker dropped out and I crept stealthily toward the double doors of the atelier. I frowned slightly, for the tracker, despite being relatively small, was a bright shade of white and stood out against the decorative pattern of the door. As carefully as I could, I pressed it into a small spot where it wasn’t quite as visible. Or so I hoped. 

“Tag placed,” I said as I backflipped away again.

“Got it,” Pegasus said. “Get to cover.”

“Our next order of business,” I said as I landed next to Spider-Man. “Come on—” I started.

My feline ears pivoted and then flattened; much as I’d done earlier in the day, I tackled Spidey and rolled the two of us up against the dark far reaches of the massive foyer. This time, he didn’t fight me and instead seemed to sense the same danger I had heard. I rolled out and squeezed into a small space between a bookcase and the corner of the wall; Spidey shot a webline up and zipped away, pressing himself into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling. Much as I often did, he was counting on the human tendency to look down, not up.

Holding my breath, I watched as the door opened and Nathalie stepped out into the foyer. “I’ll go talk to Adrien now, sir,” she was saying. “I’m not sure he’ll understand. But he won’t question it. He never does.”

Arching a masked eyebrow, I wondered if it was time for Adrien to be a little less pliable. My Father stepped into view, hands clasped behind his back as always. “He’s a good son,” he said, “and we can play into that. It’s important that we rule him out.”

_That_ caught my attention. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear—

“You can’t honestly believe he’s Chat Noir?” Nathalie said.

“I don’t have everything I need, yet,” my father replied. “Once I do, we can rule him out… or deal with the situation we’ll face at that point.”

“Sir…” Nathalie started, and even from my odd angle, I could see her eyes had widened in shock. “He’s your _son_. I can’t imagine---”

“We’ll know soon.” Father cut her off in midsentence, his voice icy. “Join me when you are ready.”

Numb to the implications of what I was hearing, I nonetheless realized this might be our best shot at scanning both Nathalie and Father. As quietly as I could, I pulled out my baton and started to text Ladybug. I’d barely started when my feline ears pivoted again.

“What’s that?” I heard Nathalie say.

My masked feline eyes flicked up, and I watched her kneel down and pick at a spot on the door.

_Merde._


	63. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As the plan continues to go off the rails, Chat calls an audible that puts both he and Spider-Man into grave danger._

The world slowed as if I was trapped inside amber as I watched Nathalie kneel in front of the decorative door to the atelier. That I was still cognizant of the situation told me there had been no Second Chance loop – this was happening, in real time; as she started to poke at the small disc I had placed against the door, I held my breath and pressed further into the shadows.

My baton was still open on text mode; I’d been one claw tap away from triggering Pegasus opening his portal. Having him appear now seemed like a truly horrific idea; glancing upward, I could see Spider-Man upside down on the vaulted ceiling, his vibrant red-and-blue standing out terribly well against the white paint. Masked eyes flicked back to the tableau in front of me, anxiety rising at the thought of what one ill-timed movement might result in. 

_Do I call them in? No – still too risky, even with Second Chance,_ I thought grimly.

“What is it?” This was from my Father, standing just inside of the atelier and out of my view.

“I’m not really sure,” Nathalie murmured as she poked at it with the stylus from her tablet. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a bug of some sort.”

“A bug?” Father replied. His toneless voice betrayed neither concern nor interest.

Setting aside her tablet, Nathalie started to try and pry the tracker off of the door. I sent up a prayer to whatever kwami was listening that the magic would keep it firmly attached. “The adhesive seems to be especially strong,” she said tightly as she tried to sneak a fingernail around the edge. “I’m not able to budge it,” she added as she stood up and looked inside the atelier. “What worries me more is how long it’s been there. I am reasonably sure I would have seen it when we returned.”

“Then whoever placed it may still be in the mansion,” Father said, a tiny note of urgency in his voice. I heard his footfalls moving away from the door. 

Nathalie nodded and followed him back into the atelier, calmly closing the door behind her; for a fraction of a second, I wondered what they were doing before the cold shock of certainty ran through me.

_Merde._

I’d vaulted halfway up the steps before the alarm started to blare, frantically waving to Spider-Man as I tumbled over the banister before leaping up the final steps to my room. He sailed through the doorway right behind me, just in time to watch the metallic security shutters slam down over the windows to my room.

“This can’t be good,” he observed dryly as he spun and watched the panels clank shut.

“No,” I breathed before swearing. “Ladybug?” I asked over the comm channel. “We’ve got a situation…” I said, trailing off as nothing but static filled my earpiece. I wasn’t completely surprised, for part of the mansion-wide security system was a signal jammer; popping open the baton confirmed that the cell signal – despite being powered by magic – was similarly blocked. 

Swearing again, I jammed the baton into its spot at the small of my back and fruitlessly vaulted toward the bathroom, finding that window equally as blocked. Leaping up to the ledge, I managed to sneak my claws beneath the metal and grunted with the effort of trying to pry the shutter open. “Come on,” I groaned as the metal squealed beneath my super-strength. “I could really… _ungh_… use another paw.”

With a quiet whisper of fabric, Spidey appeared by my shoulder on the tiny ledge and reversed himself, pressing his costumed back against the panel and trying to wriggle his fingers into the minute space I had managed to create. “Can’t you just do that catawhatchamacallit against this?” he asked, puffing slightly at the effort. “It could save us some effort.”

“I can only use it once,” I reminded him, “and it’ll leave a rather obvious hole that only one hero can make.” I glanced at him. “We can’t afford to tip our hand, especially if Father is---” I caught myself, but it was too late. 

Spidey had swiveled his head toward me, those mechanical eyes narrowing. “This is _your_ home, isn’t it? And _your_ bedroom.”

“No—” I grunted again and then gave up, for the panel wasn’t going anywhere.

Spidey let go as well and immediately pulled off his mask, revealing the youthful face I’d seen on that rooftop in Santa Monica seemingly ages ago. It was laced with concern and compassion. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I know you’ve gone out of your way to protect my alter-ego from your friends even though I revealed myself.”

“I’ve only seen your face,” I said defensively as I leapt off the small ledge and landed in a cat-crouch looking up at him. “I don’t know—”

“Peter,” he said quietly. “My name is Peter Parker.”

My masked eyes widened. “Spidey, this really isn’t the time—”

“It’s okay, Adrien,” he smiled slightly at the shocked expression I couldn’t hide. “It’s too much of a coincidence that the supermodel was in California when Chat Noir appeared. Don’t worry, I am pretty good at keeping secrets.”

I felt my face flame slightly. “I can’t—you _can’t_ know who I am,” I whispered, silently thankful the comms were offline. “Ladybug’s rules mean I’ll lose all of this.” I waited for a beat. “I’ll lose Chat Noir.”

Spidey dropped down to sit next to me. “You’ve protected me. I’ll return the favor,” he said earnestly with a hand to my bicep. “We heroes have to stick together, right?”

I nodded tightly, only slightly mollified at my extraordinarily poorly timed reveal.

Slipping his mask back on, he nodded again. “And I can also understand the dilemma of your father finding Chat Noir up here. We’ve got to get out before they start to search the mansion.”

I cocked a feline ear toward the stairwell. “They’re still on the first floor, but this will be the next spot; Nathalie always checks to see--” I looked up at him. “Damn,” I breathed and then smiled a Chat-smile. “Maybe it’s good we _can’t_ escape,” I said thoughtfully as I started to look around the bathroom.

“Why?”

“Adrien is supposed to be doing his homework right now,” I replied as I stalked over to my closet. “Not out saving Paris as he is currently doing.”

“Yikes,” Spidey said, then added without missing a beat, “I suppose you can’t have a friend over?”

Sliding open the door to my closet, my eyes raked over the fellow teenager. “No,” I smiled. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t sneak someone past them. What is your shirt size?”

* * *

Less than five minutes later, my bodyguard crashed through the door to the bedroom and found me on the couch in front of my big screen television, controller in hand, playing video games with Peter. I kept my attention visibly focused on the game – which wasn’t hard, as it turned out Peter was a pretty good wingman in Gears of War – and feigned surprise when his mutton-chops-clad-face appeared in front of the screen.

Looking up, I let my eyes go wide. “Is something—” I started to ask, before acting as though I was just now taking in the locked down windows of my bedroom. “OhMyGod!” I jumped up. “I never heard the alarm! What’s happening?!”

Frowning, Gorilla’s eyes went to Peter as he folded his arms.

“You remember Peter?” I said innocently. “The American exchange student visiting Nino?”

Gorilla’s brow furrowed further.

“He came over when you guys were out this morning,” I explained. “We’ve been pretty focused on this game,” I added, inclining my head toward the screen.

My bodyguard looked to Peter, then me, then back to Peter again. I knew I couldn’t really fool him, but was also aware that he cut me more slack than Nathalie and Father combined. As I watched him come to a decision, I also intrinsically knew he _wasn’t_ Hawkmoth – not with the way his eyes softened as he gave me that fractional smile with a nod as he swept back out of the room.

I didn’t realize how tense I was until the door closed and I looked down to see my knuckles were white from the death grip I had on the controller. “That was close,” I breathed as I sat back down.

“Well done,” Peter said. I’d managed to find a pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt I often used for sleeping. Both did an adequate job of hiding the bright colors and piping of his costume, but I had also dimmed all of the lights in the room, too, allowing the television as the only source of illumination. “Now what?”

“Ordinarily, I would say we wait for Father to finish his search and then escape once he lifts the lockdown,” I replied, but a sly smile came to my face. 

“Why do I hear a ‘but’ in there?”

“While the moth is away, the Chat will play,” I smiled wider. “We can take this opportunity to do a little reconnoitering of our own.” I paused. “If you are game?” I added. “If they catch us…”

Peter had already begun to pull his mask on. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

Setting aside for the moment that I had suddenly, somehow, flipped the switch and was now all in believing Father was Hawkmoth, I tried to formulate a bit of a plan of attack. Cracking the door to my bedroom open slightly, my feline eyes could see nothing, but my feline ears told a different story, for quite a bit of activity was going on in the kitchen. Looking up, I watched as my bodyguard entered one of the spare bedrooms, then checked again to ensure the foyer was clear.

Waving silently, Spidey followed me back out and onto the mezzanine; waiting a heartbeat, I flipped over the bannister and landed at the base of the ornate staircase in a crouch. Spidey followed my lead, and in one more flip, I was at the door to the atelier. I paused, and wanting to muddy the waters a bit, I snapped the tracker off before pushing into my father’s workspace.

The interior was darkened, save for the light on the portrait of my mother. Nathalie’s workstation was empty, and the soft glow from the design stand Father normally used told me he’d been in the middle of something with her earlier. Carefully, I crept around the perimeter, my feline eyes searching every nook and cranny for anything that seemed out of place, also knowing that there was a security camera trained on the portrait.

Peering over my shoulder, I did a double take at the image frozen on the monitor. Instead of the pattern I’d assumed they’d been discussing, there was a photo of Chat Noir; it looked like a screen capture from the Ladyblog, and it had been blown up to focus on my ring hand. I wasn’t entirely sure I understood why until I caught the tiny part of the photo it was on top of; standing, I tapped the image with a claw and saw a picture of Adrien from a recent photo shoot, similarly blown up with a focus on the Miraculous. Despite it being in chameleon mode, there were some tiny similarities and it was clear he had been reviewing them. Possibly with Nathalie.

“He knows,” Peter said softly, a bit of fear creeping into his tone.

“He suspects,” I corrected without looking at him. “It means we are now in race to unmask each other,” I added grimly. “Ladybug and I might have been a bit careless about our relationship – in and out of costume.”

Spidey started to say something and paused, cocking his head. “We’re about to have company.”

My masked eyes darted around the room. “Lovely. We seem to be short an emergency exit,” I whispered.

“Maybe not,” he replied as he leapt out of the well and over to one of the few empty spots on the wall. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to something embedded in the wall with a gloved hand.

I bounded over to him and stood up, narrowing my masked eyes in the semi-darkness. “It looks like a glass prism,” I said softly, a feline ear flicking to capture high heels as they approached. “From afar, I assumed it was a hook for a missing photo,” I added, looking at Spider-Man. “What—” I started.

Wordlessly, Spidey pushed against the wall.

There was a click, and a panel swung inward; the craftsmanship was so perfect, even my superior feline vision hadn’t picked up the doorway. He looked a me. “Old mansions tended to have hidden servant access points,” he whispered. “Some servants were never meant to be seen; that’s a spyhole, to be used to know when it’s safe to enter the space.”

My masked eyes widened as we slipped into a small corridor hidden within the wall; carefully, I pressed the door shut and then flipped around to peer through the hole. “We’ve never had servants,” I whispered. “But this house has been around since the French Revolution, so it stands to reason some owners in the past might have.” I looked to Spider-Man in the darkness, seeing him light up in the false colors of my night vision. “How did you know about this? I’ve lived here my whole life and never found them.”

Spider-Man shrugged. “I watched _Downton Abbey_ with my Aunt.”

“Never seen it.” I held back my laugh as I watched Father and Nathalie re-enter the atelier and walk to a spot directly in front of the painting of my mother. “They’re here,” I whispered. “For some reason, Father is staring at---”

I froze, for to my amazement, Father placed fingers in several very particular spots on the painting; there was a loud mechanical click, and then the spot where he had been standing with his assistant sunk into the floor. A moment later, a door irised closed over the newly revealed tunnel, eliminating all traces of the elevator.

Stunned, I turned and slid on my back down to the floor of the cramped corridor.

“What did you see?” Spider-Man asked.

I took a long, long moment before answering. “More than I wanted to.”


	64. Next Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Trapped inside Agreste Manor and effectively on their own, Chat Noir and Spider-Man search for a way out of their predicament._

“Chat? Are you all right?’

I blinked, realizing it was the second time Spider-Man had queried me. This one had caught my attention with a gloved hand to my costumed shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in,” I said softly. “And I’m not a huge fan of small spaces, either.”

“Oh!” he replied as he immediately moved away a bit. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re fine,” I managed to smile. “It’s not as bad as it used to be, honestly. Worse when I’m alone, actually.”

Snapping open my baton once more, I could see the signal was still being jammed; texting wasn’t even an option – or, was it? For the first time in a bit, I felt the crafty Chat smile appear. “Wifi,” I said softly as I flipped onto all fours. “We can get a message out to the team using the Wifi in the house.”

“You mean, like over the internet?”

“Yes,” I said as I peered into the darkness that extended in either direction. My night vision revealed a stairway going up at one end and for a brief moment wondered how closely I might actually be monitored in my room. Stuffing that thought into the back of my brain, I started up the stairwell, Spidey close behind. “I have an access point in my room,” I explained. “While the security protocol probably locked down the firewall as well, I suspect we might be able to bypass it with direct access to the hardware. If we can, my baton can get a message out.”

“The baton has wifi?”

“Among other goodies, yes,” I said as we turned at a landing and started up another set of steps. “Damn. Pegasus is a better programmer than I am. He’d make short work of eliminating---”

“Chat,” I heard from behind me, along with a tug on my shoulder. “Aside from the fact you happen to have forgotten that is in my wheelhouse, can’t you just disable the security system?”

I paused on the step above the landing and turned to look at him; his colorful costume was muted in my night vision. “Father doesn’t trust me with the codes,” I said softly. “Especially after an incident a while ago when Chat Noir knew a little _too_ much about how to activate said security system. Father got a bit paranoid and changed out the entire system; all I know is, Nathalie can access it from her phone or tablet now. Everything is on a server in the cloud or something.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t get to it,” Spidey said. “Get me to a computer and I can give you the world.”

The crafty Chat smile appeared again. “I can do that,” I said. “Come on.”

Turning, we continued up the stairs until they ended in a long hallway similar to the one that paralleled the atelier. Little spots of light told me where the spyholes were, and to my partial relief, it appeared the doors were at either end of the mezzanine. That was confirmed when I gently pressed one of them open and found ourselves on the balcony of third floor, just above the steps leading down to my room on the second. Carefully pressing the door open further, I confirmed we were still alone before we slipped out and snapped the door shut. Like the one in the atelier, it disappeared into the wall, though now that I knew what to look for, the spyhole glinted slightly in the light.

Two leaps and we were through the door and back into the bedroom; once more, I wished my doors would lock, but knew I could rely on my feline hearing to detect anyone approaching. If my guess was right, though, Hawkmoth was at this moment in his lair (was it really in the mansion?) coming up with a plan to uncover who had planted the tracker on the door to the atelier. As we quickly moved to my desk and the computer set upon it, it worried me that I only knew a small fraction of Hawkmoth’s abilities; worse, if Nathalie was supporting him as Mayura, which I now strongly suspected, we had even _less_ of an idea of what the Peacock Miraculous was capable of. Small wonder the two of them had been so formidable.

If we got out of this mess, some one-on-one time with the photos of the Grimoire Master Fu had was in order.

“Will this work?” I asked as I pulled my chair out for Spider-Man.

He hopped over it and settled in, pulling off his mask in an easy movement. “This will work nicely.”

“My password—”

“Is irrelevant,” he laughed as he pulled something from his belt. Once more I found I was jealous at his ability to carry a veritable toolkit everywhere, though if I were honest, the baton certainly did more than just allow me to pogo stick my way across Paris. He held up a small USB-sized gizmo. “A few tools of my own design,” he smiled as he slid it into one of the exposed ports below a monitor.

“I am _so_ changing all of my passwords after this.”

“That would be a good policy,” he murmured as my screen burst into life.

Arching a masked eyebrow when the screen flickered away from my normal desktop (a nice action shot of Ladybug, of course), I watched in amazement as he opened multiple console windows and set to work. “First priority should be to get a message out to Ladybug and the gang,” I suggested. “I’m not sure we’d need to drop the entire security system just yet, since Pegasus can get them in.” I paused. “Or out, if, as I suspect, Ladybug decides this is not the best time or place to take on Hawkmoth.”

“That’s actually a good idea,” Spidey said. “I’m in the firewall now. Gimmie a second…”

I pulled out my baton and snapped it open to phone mode. My earlier text for Ladybug was still there, and I quickly deleted it. I couldn’t decide what my replacement text might be, for sending _Hawkmoth is my father _felt a bit melodramatic. Asking her to marry me so I could get away from the lunacy my life had suddenly descended into ran a close second, but owing to current French laws in that regard, also seemed to be an inappropriate option.

“Got it,” Spidey said.

My earwig had a rush of static, followed by the urgent voice of Ladybug. “Chat? Can you hear me?”

“I can now, Milady,” I said. “We’ve had some unexpected developments here.”

“We suspected as much when the metal shutters appeared. Gendarme are also out front, but Officer Roger seems unable to get anyone to answer the door.”

“Not surprising,” I laughed slightly. 

“Are you okay?”

“No,” I said honestly, “but I’ll deal with it later. From what I’ve seen, we don’t need those nice scanners Pegasus slaved over. Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth and has repaired to his lair. I’m not sure how you want to proceed.”

There was a long pause. “Chat,” she said, protecting my identity from the members of Team Miraculous that didn’t know who my alter ego was. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I found I was stating it with a certainty I didn’t know I had.

“Then we will regroup. I’ll have Pegasus get you out of there.”

“Actually,” I started. “Adrien might need my help. I think I’ll stick around for a bit.”

My baton buzzed a moment later and I flipped over to the text messages again.

**_LB:_ ** _Was Adrien sighted at the mansion?_

**_CN: _**_Yes – and with a guest_. 

**_LB_:** _(facepalm emoji) Always the road less travelled with you._

My face crinkled with a smile at the good-natured grousing from my partner. It wasn’t untrue.

“If you stay hidden,” Ladybug said over the comm. “what about Spidey?”

“I’m good at blending in,” he replied. “And I think Chat could use the support.”

“Stay out of sight and keep in contact.” 

I looked down at Peter’s unmasked face, and he held my gaze as the earwig went silent. He arched an eyebrow at me. “You’re not going to follow her instructions, are you?”

“In spirit I am,” I said with a smile. “Look, can you access the mansion’s internal systems?”

“Probably,” he said as he turned and started tapping at the keyboard. “I’m not saying I support this plan of action, but to be honest, I have something of a reputation for going my own way.”

“As do I,” I laughed, despite the circumstance. “Ladybug will probably put me in the cat house after this. Assuming we survive.”

“There’s a cheery thought,” Spidey replied. “I’m in. What am I looking for?”

I stared at the big screen, trying to remember what I had seen months earlier. “Ma—Pegasus was trying to route more power to my wall speakers for a party I unexpectedly threw,” I explained as my feline eyes traced the diagram. “He stumbled across something that I didn’t understand the significance of until now.”

“What was that?”

“A power source, here in the mansion.”

“Like this one?” Spidey said as he pointed a gloved finger at a small glowing block on one corner. Lighted routes connected it to various places in the mansion, including the kitchen, my bedroom, and one other unusual spot I’d not paid attention to. 

“Yes,” I said. “What is that?” I asked, using a claw to tag the unknown box that was drawing a significant amount of power.

My companion tapped again, and I saw him frown. “There are some pretty impressive firewalls in place around that part of the system,” he said. “But from what I can divine, it’s on a separate HVAC system from the mansion.”

“And this?” I tapped another, smaller space that was above the first on the diagram. 

“Not much there,” he said quickly. “I _can_ access most of that; if I read this right, it looks like it shares a connecting tunnel with the first space you identified, and there is an addition of a number of hydraulic systems being fed by the power generator. Doors, panels, that kind of thing.” 

I looked at the two spots on the map, both drawing significant power. “If you were an evil villain, which one would be your lair?” I asked quietly.

Peter turned to me. “Those things Hawkmoth uses – the butterflies?”

“Yeah?”

He tapped the smaller space. “That hydraulics I mentioned? They could be used to open and close a rather sizable window,” he said. “Perfect for sending them on their mission.”

I blinked. “Can you give me an actual floorplan?”

“No,” he sighed after a few minutes. “I mean, yes, with enough time to break the encryption. But if I had to guess, this space – the one with the window? It has to be higher than us based on the power loss along the transmission line. And this bigger space? The transmission lines are far larger, and the power loss compensation far greater; it has to be deep underground.”

“Underground,” I repeated. If I assumed Father was off being Hawkmoth… “Do you think that elevator thing I saw in the atelier connects both spaces?”

“Yes.”

I smiled my sly Chat smile; Ladybug was, indeed, going to kill me – if Hawkmoth didn’t first. “Let’s go dig in the sandbox, shall we?”


	65. Let Sleeping Secrets Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Leaning into his ability for stealth, Chat changes tactics and tries to give Team Miraculous the upper hand for the first time since encountering Hawkmoth._

When I first became Chat Noir, I’d been somewhat reckless with respect to exiting the mansion after transforming; generally, the nearest open window was all I required. Sure, I leaned on my enhanced feline senses to ensure I wasn’t being observed, but to be brutally frank, I’d been extremely lucky that no one had walked into my bedroom unannounced in the middle of my transformation, nor had (to my knowledge) anyone caught me sailing up and into the Parisian skyline despite the busy streets bordering two sides of the mansion.

A near miss half a year earlier had made me reassess a bit, though, for unexpectedly my bodyguard had been bringing the sedan around from the garage at the rear of the property. The unusual movement caught my attention, but not before I’d sprung into my final vault to clear the fence and enter my bedroom through the perennially open window. It was a near thing, as the deep claw marks on the soft stone of the tile roof of the building across the street would attest, but I’d managed to arrest my ascent and press myself into the brick just as the sedan passed below my dangling boots.

Years of dedicated comic book reading and devoted viewing of anime should have informed me any superhero worth their salt would have spent far longer that I had in determining a safe way to get in and out of the mansion undetected; while I’d hung there on the edge of the roofline, thanking the kwami gods for not becoming another statistic, I realized it was _beyond_ time to have a plan. Fortunately, the route of the sedan had piqued my feline curiosity, for in truth I had never seen where it was stored. In fact, there was only a small fraction of the mansion I’d explored up to that point, a result of the rather strict edict from my Father early on that it wasn’t a playground. Mother had compensated for that by tricking out my bedroom with almost anything a young boy could want, and then had later updated it for her then newly-minted teenager, but at the end of the day a gilded cage is still just a cage.

Several concerted late-night expeditions had netted me four distinctly different ways of entering and exiting the mansion unobserved; given the security system had the place in full lockdown, that didn’t especially help me at the moment save for one of them being a disused entrance into the basement. Hidden behind a well-manicured bush that shielded it from view, I’d discovered it on one of my nighttime reconnaissance missions and had easily picked the lock with a claw. Until the inadvertent discovery of the hidden servant passages, I hadn’t been able to deduce the purpose of the space, though at the time I’d thought the small staircase leading directly into the kitchen pantry had been unusual. Now I understood that had to have been the servant’s entrance, back in the day when they were not allowed to use the front door; deliveries must have been accepted there, too, explaining the easy access to the chef.

More important in retrospect was the _second_ door I had found inside that space, one with a much more modern lock I’d been unable to pick with a claw. While I could not deny the insatiable desire to satisfy my feline curiosity, determining what was behind the locked door had been a lower priority than saving Paris from Hawkmoth. Or visiting Marinette, for that matter.

Now, though, after seeing Father disappear into the floor of the atelier on his hidden elevator, that door took on a new significance. Curiosity notwithstanding, _something_ important to Hawkmoth was hiding there, and given the power distribution diagram Spider-Man had just shown me, whatever it was required an enormous amount of energy. I needed to scout it out and determine if it was a possible weakness Ladybug and I could exploit against our nemesis. I sketched in all of that to Spider-Man as we carefully snuck down to the kitchen in the now darkened interior of the mansion.

Feline ears pivoting as we went, there was no trace of anyone about; just to be safe, I sniffed the air as well only to confirm whatever search they’d initiated had been abandoned – at least, the physical methods they’d been using. Pressing firmly into the shadows seemed like a prudent precaution should there be any other hidden cameras in the mansion along the lines of the one that had caught me red-handed in the atelier that unfortunate time Plagg and I had broken into Father’s safe.

The danger of Father having what we now knew was the Miraculous Grimoire was not lost on me, making me wish Marinette had never returned it to him. My only hope was he had not been able to fully translate it, given how powerful the magic within it had to be. Even Master Fu treated it with respect – and he had _experience_ with the magic it contained. Father would only be blundering about pursuing whatever goal it was he had in mind.

A goal that we still very much in the dark about.

Reaching the bottom of the grand staircase, I dropped to all fours and dashed across the marble to kitchen. Pressing a feline ear to the door, I confirmed that space, too, was empty before pushing the door open just enough to allow ingress for the two of us. Spidey leapt to one side, and I to the other, effectively double-checking we were alone. Still keeping quiet, though, I waved him over to the walk-in pantry beside the massive stove and slid the door open; the irony that the mansion had such a large kitchen, given how little food chef seemed to prepare each day was not lost on me. Either that or Nathalie, Father and my bodyguard all ate their weight daily, unlike the portion-controlled servings I received.

Swiftly, I worked through the small storeroom and ended at the rear wall. Two crates of apple juice, one stacked upon the other, were blocking the doorway. Motioning to Spidey, we each took a side and managed with some effort to slide it far enough away to access the door beyond. 

Narrowing my masked eyes at the juice, I wondered who on earth in the house drank that vile stuff. It certainly never appeared to me in the dining room. It was a mystery for another day. 

“This way,” I whispered as I pressed open the door with a paw.

Spider-Man was right behind me as we moved down the narrow steps to the basement. The dust always tickled my feline nose, and I suppressed the urge to sneeze on the off chance someone had deduced our moves and was laying in wait below. Fortunately, that turned out not to be the case as I pushed the door out into emptiness.

There was no light in the area at all, so the door in question was lit in false colors by my night vision. I was unsurprised to see a metal shutter over the exterior exit, marveling a bit at how thorough Father’s security precautions had been. Spidey didn’t seem to be having any trouble in the darkness either, as he effortlessly landed in a crouch in front of the door. “This one?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” I nodded.

“It’s an RFID key,” Spidey whistled. “Kind of unusual in a residence.”

“There appear to be a number of unusual things in this house,” I said as I held up my paw, tensing the claws toward him. “Explains why these babies couldn’t help me,” I laughed quietly. “Can we short it out?”

“Like in the movies?” he asked. “Probably. But not without it being noticed.”

“Good point. Same goes for me using Cataclysm, too.”

“Not to worry,” Spider-Man said as he started to search his toolbelt once more and coming up with a tiny screwdriver. A few moments later, he had popped the cover off the lock and was poking around in the circuitry. “Fortunately,” he murmured as he did something I couldn’t quite follow, “I know a thing or two about electronics…”

There was a buzz, a click, and then the door swung away from us.

“Open sesame?” I said, impressed.

“Something like that,” he laughed quietly as he popped the cover back on. 

Pushing my way into the room beyond, I paused, somewhat in shock. It was lit with small spots here and there, and smelled closed in, almost as if it did not receive visitors often. And I could see why, for rows and rows and rows of garment bags extended away from us, filling nearly every conceivable meter of the actual basement of the mansion. Squinting at the end of one row, I could see a tag of some kind, and slowly nodded. “So, this is where he keeps them.”

“Keeps what?” Spidey said as he stepped to me.

I moved over to one of the garment bags and twisted it enough to unzip it partially; in the half light, I showed the shirt and trouser combo to my colleague. “This is the famed Gabriel pattern vault,” I replied. “Every prototype of every design my Father has ever created is here. Its existence is legendary, but no one has ever seen it – including me.”

Spider-Man’s eyes went wide. “This… all of this?” he gagged, slightly. “It must be worth a fortune!”

“It is,” I nodded. “I always assumed it was in a safe place, just not here.”

“Despite that, this isn’t the source of the power use, Chat,” Spidey observed. “And we’re also not as far underground as my calculations indicated.”

“Good point,” I nodded. “Let’s split up and search.”

“For what?”

“Anything,” I said honestly. “We’ll know what it is when we find it, I suppose.”

Methodically we started to cover the space, which was fairly large in its own right. Luck was on our side, for in the far corner of the room I located an unusual appeared of an otherwise ordinary looking trapdoor. “Over here,” I called out.

In moments, Spidey was crouched beside me. “This stands out a bit.”

“Doesn’t it,” I said. “What do you think?”

“We open it,” he said quickly.

I pulled at the handle and to my surprise, the door _slid_ into a pocket beneath us, revealing even deeper darkness below. Blinking, my night vision went to a new level allowing me to make out some sort of catwalk connected to metal ladder. Easily, I swung down and then slid to the cool metal below, landing with a soft rubbery thump in my crouch. Spidey lowered himself a bit more gracefully on a thin line of webbing, pausing a meter above the metal before flipping around.

A barrage of sensations hit me: the space was massive, and far higher in humidity than the storage room above us. The fragrance of a flower that was not part of my scent catalog made me wrinkle my feline nose at the sickly-sweet honeysuckle-like odor. Feline ears pivoted at a rush of movement, as if hundreds of wings were flapping. All of that was secondary, though, to the thrumming of machinery; I turned my mane in that direction and could make out the faintest outline of a pattern high against the wall, one very much like the Gabriel logo.

With a growing sense of unease, my feline eyes moved downward and landed on some sort of plexiglass enclosure, the clear source of the thrumming. In the odd false colors of my night vision, it looked a bit like the glass coffin the Seven Dwarfs built to house Snow White.

I started to crawl along the catwalk, ignoring whatever it was that Spider-Man was saying. There was a note of urgency in his voice, but I was supremely focused on the tableau below. As I got closer, hidden sensors picked up on my movement and spotlights began to come on, throwing the wild space into relief. A lush jungle-like forest of greenery spread out to all corners, and the fluttering wings were explained by the thousands of white butterflies working their way through the flowing vines.

The catwalk was several meters above the space, so I swung over the edge and used my baton to descend, disregarding ever-more urgent warnings from Spidey. My feline eyes unerringly were drawn to what the spotlights now showed to be a glass casket of sorts, angled slightly to give a view of the body within. I wasn’t yet close enough to see _who_ was inside, but the way my skin was crawling as I neared it made me realize I already knew.

Inexorably, my boot hit the first step, triggering one final set of hidden spots to flare to life, giving the glass-topped casket a warm glow that was at odds with the exceptionally morbid scene. I froze, boot hovering on the second step, my masked eyes wide at the beautiful face that looked for all the world as though it were just in repose. A face I thought I would never, ever, in a million years see again.

I have no idea how long I stood there, my world narrowing to the unmoving form inside what was clearly designed to be a shrine of sorts. Small lights on the interior nearly tricked me into believing I could see movement, but what little rational part of my feline brain that was still functioning in that moment confirmed there was anything but. And yet, as preserved as the body appeared to be… could it be possible?

What deal with the Devil had Father made?

“Who is she?” Spider-Man asked quietly. I had no idea how long he’d been standing beside me, or, for that matter, how long I had been frozen in place.

“Emilie Agreste,” I said so softly that he had to lean in to hear me. “She is – or was -- my mother.”


	66. Revised Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Confronted with an unexpected reality, Chat finds himself struggling to deal with the situation. Fortunately, Ladybug is there to help him through – much as he has consistently been there for her._

My brain hurt.

My eyes were struggling to see.

My heart was thumping so hard, I was certain Spider-Man could hear it.

_Mother_.

Taking a step closer to the glass coffin, I placed a paw against the lid and could feel the vibration from the equipment that appeared to be supporting the unit. Just below the subtle reflection of a feline superhero in the glass lid, Mother’s face was in repose, her hands clasped over her stomach; if not for her pallid complexion, I could nearly convince myself she was sleeping. 

Choking back the emotions that threatened to undo me, I shoved my inner turmoil into a box and mentally taped it shut. Blinking, and then blinking again, I tried to coolly observe what, exactly, I was seeing. Masked eyes raked over her body; clad in a classy pantsuit I vaguely remembered seeing her in once, there was no movement at all – no breathing, no eye twitching. Nothing to suggest that she was in a truly deep, deep sleep or even some version of high-tech sci-fi style hibernation.

Pressing my feline ear to the glass for a moment, I wasn’t able to hear her heartbeat, either, even when concentrating the full force of my senses on her. Stepping back, I looked more closely at the casket – I couldn’t think of it in any other terms – and was unable to determine how it was hooked into the power source that had led us to discover it. Along the lower edge of the front, though, was the first indication of a system of any kind. Several lights just below her feet indicated _something_, but what was beyond my ability to process at the moment.

“Is she dead?” I heard my voice asking as my masked eyes returned to the face I had so sorely missed seeing. The longer I stared at it, though, the more difficult it was to keep myself in rational and level-headed.

Spider-Man had been keeping a respectful distance up to that point, but moved to my side. Briefly he squeezed my bicep, telling me without words that he was there for me. “I can’t deny how much this space looks like a mausoleum,” he replied equally as quietly before moving closer to the casket and squatting. “Given how long you said she has been missing? If this isn’t a… tribute… to her, then this might be some sort of stasis chamber.”

“Stasis?” I asked. My voice was tight, emotions barely in check.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s scientifically possible to put someone into suspended animation. I’m not aware of any actual cases where it’s been pulled off successfully – at least, not through official channels.” He turned his mechanical eyes toward me. “Clearly this is not from a research lab. And given the power consumption… yeah, I’d say stasis.”

My heart skipped a beat. “She’s alive, then?”

Spider-Man was up and by my side in a flash. “Chat, I don’t want to get your hopes up. I’m not an expert in this field, but much like freezing someone cryogenically, this—” he waved a glove at the glass casket, “—_this_ generally happens close to or _at_ the time of death.” Spidey paused. “The idea is that once they are unthawed, or in this case, the stasis field is removed, the subject needs to be revived.”

I nodded, slowly. “We can’t discount this is some sort of magically induced… thing, either,” I added.

“_That_ throws everything out the window,” Spidey replied.

_Magic_, I thought. The odds that it was a coincidence Father was Hawkmoth and Mother was in this… what did Spidey call it? This mausoleum? I shook my head, a cold certainly forming in the pit of my stomach. No… I could easily see a direct connection between them. Between _us_.

Forcing myself to focus, I pulled out my baton; I’d set a timer when we left my bedroom so I could keep track of how long it had been since we’d seen Hawkmoth – _Father_, I mentally corrected – disappear into the bowels of the mansion. I knew I needed to add about four minutes to the displayed time but even doing that, it was hard to come to grips with the notion my world had exploded less than twenty minutes earlier. Practically, though, I had no sense of how long Hawkie would stay in his secret lair, or, as I looked around at the fluttering butterflies, whether he would make a surprise appearance to pick up a few for use as future akumas. Either way, I likely only had a few minutes at best to decide on what to do. 

And in a flash of insight, I knew I couldn’t do it alone, much as I wanted to tear apart the entire mansion and end this once and for all. 

My masked eyes flicked to Spidey. “Can we get a signal out still?”

He nodded. “I left the hole I punched in the firewall for the earwig frequencies open.”

Looking upward for no real reason, I took a deep breath. “Ladybug?” I called out.

The comm channel clicked. “I’m here, Chat,” she said. Her voice was an unexpected lifeline I didn’t realize I needed; the wall I had built to keep my emotions in check immediately started to crumble. “What have you found?”

“Plenty,” I said quietly, voice cracking. “I need you,” I added, as I slowly sank down into a seated cat position. “Badly. Please hurry.”

* * *

I hadn’t realized I’d gone into something of a fugue state until well after the glow to Pegasus’s portal had faded and Ladybug had wrapped me in a gentle hug. Somehow, I was vaguely aware that Spider-Man had a quickly whispered conversation with Ladybug, who was rocking me slightly.

“Can we move her?” I heard Ladybug ask Spidey.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “Whatever this device is doing to keep Madame Agreste in this state requires a lot of power. Without more time to understand what it does…”

“Understood,” she said. “How much time to you need?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

“Then get to it,” Ladybug said. “I don’t want to stick around here any longer than we have to.”

“On it.”

Ladybug slid around to sit in front of me as Spider-Man quickly moved back toward the casket behind me. “Hey,” she said softly, her masked blue eyes searching my feline ones. “I’m not going to ask you how you’re doing.”

I managed a tired smile. “I’m not sure I could honestly tell you,” I replied. “It feels like I am stuck in a nightmare I can’t awaken from.”

“I’m here, and I will always be here,” she said as she leaned down for a kiss. “Now more than ever.”

I kissed her back. “_I’m_ normally the strong one,” I whispered, agony in my voice. “But this is almost more than I can handle.”

“I get it completely,” she said, brushing back my hair to show my mask. “You’ve gotten me through time and again, kitty. It’s my turn to help you.”

“What do we do?” I asked. “I feel like I am over my feline ears here.”

“I think we are both in _way_ over our heads,” she agreed sadly before looking over my shoulder. “We have some unique help at our fingertips, though, thanks to you.” Looking back, she smiled a bit impishly. “And don’t think we’re not going to descend on Master Fu, either. He put us square in the middle of this mess in the first place; I think it’s time for him to become a more active participant.”

I nodded – it was about all I could do at the moment, for my cascading emotions were once more threatening to overwhelm me. Closing my eyes, I pressed my head into Ladybug’s chest and tried unsuccessfully to keep from crying.

“Spidey,” I heard Ladybug say. “Tell me you have what you need.”

“That’s a hard question to answer, Ladybug,” he replied, his voice growing closer. “Enough for now, if you think we can sneak in again in case I need more.”

“I’m not sure how soon we’d be able to get another opportunity,” Ladybug said. “I—”

My feline ears pivoted and mane popped up. “Someone’s coming,” I said, masked eyes snapping to a clear tube at the far end of the space. “Elevator.”

Ladybug swore before speaking to the air. “Peg, tell me you’re recharged?”

There was a hiss of static in our respective earwigs.

I looked to Spider-Man, unabashedly wiping my nose with the back of my paw. “The security system might be self-correcting,” he mused. “I didn’t see that when I was in there.”

“Then we get out the way we came in,” I said quickly, momentarily able to put my emotions back into the box again as I extended my baton up toward the catwalk.

Ladybug and Spider-Man were right behind me, the three of us landing _plop-plop-plop_ in unison on the metal grating. Quickly we moved toward the still-open door into the basement above; I helped Ladybug through, then stepped aside for Spidey to shoot himself upward before I leapt up myself.

Turning around, I held my breath, for I had a good line of sight to the elevator tube. Father was the only occupant, and was facing toward the glass casket as the carriage slowed to a stop at the base. I didn’t need my enhanced feline vision to see his scowl deepen as he started to stride toward the raised dais. “The lights were on,” I heard him saying to someone before realizing he was holding his cell phone to his ear. “Something clearly triggered the motion alarm.”

_I should have realized there were motion sensors_, I thought bleakly. _But how_ _is his phone working?_ I wondered, suddenly finding myself shifting into pure Chat mode and enjoying the clarity of thought that came with it again. I knew it was temporary, but I needed every lifeline I could get at the moment. _Must be tied to the security system. I wonder if my civilian phone would work…?_

“—they were here,” he continued as he paused on the step below the glass casket. “Whoever broke in, that’s who,” he added tersely. “And how they got down here without us detecting them elsewhere in the mansion is troubling. Very troubling”

“Chat?” Ladybug whispered. “What is it?”

“One second,” I waved her off.

“I agree,” Father said after a moment. “I don’t see a reason to stay in lockdown – but check on my son first, please. If he’s fine, we’ll stand down and then decide on next steps.”

I swore. “_Now_ we do have to go,” I said.

“Go? Where?”

“My bedroom,” I said as I slid the door shut. Despite everything, I couldn’t help the wolfish Chat smile that appeared as I took my partner by her hand. “Where I’ve long wanted to have you.”

Ladybug flushed deeply and Spidey coughed. 

* * *

It was close.

I stashed Ladybug in my closet and sent up prayer that my minders wouldn’t insist on searching every square inch of my room. Peter threw on the sweats I’d loaned him earlier and I de-transformed; we had barely settled in front of my wide-screen television before the door to my bedroom opened to reveal Nathalie and my bodyguard.

“Adrien?” she said.

I turned. “Nathalie,” I said, trying to sound worried. “Is everything okay finally?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes flicking to Peter; her lack of comment informed me that my bodyguard had filled her in already using the cover story I’d given him. “You didn’t see anything unusual today, did you?”

_Wouldn’t you like to know,_ I thought. “Over and above the mansion going into lockdown?” I asked. “No.”

“All right,” she nodded. “We’ll be releasing the system shortly. Will your guest be staying for dinner?”

“Actually,” I said, trying for guileless. With my emotions roiling beneath the surface, I had to lean on all of my model experience to pull off the look. “Marinette has invited a bunch of us over for dinner tonight. So we can introduce Peter to more of our friends,” I explained, adding my sheepish model smile to sell the point.

“You didn’t mention that earlier, Adrien.”

“It just came up,” I said honestly.

Nathalie weighed something then nodded. “I’ll have you dropped off.”

“I’ll walk,” I said, probably too quickly based on her widened eyes. Calming my heartbeat, I continued. “I’m still showing him Paris, and it’s easier to do in person than from a car.”

This time, she took a full minute before nodding. “Please be home by ten.”

“Absolutely,” I lied.

Nodding one final time, she turned and exited, my bodyguard on her heels.

I waited a breath or two before dashing to the bathroom, Peter a half meter behind me, calling for my transformation as I went. It was with feline eyes that I found Ladybug anxiously looking around the corner of the door. “All clear?”

“Yes,” I said. “And I am free to be out and about for the evening.”

“Nicely done,” she said as she ran a hand along my costumed arm. She looked at me, hard. “Are you sure you are okay to keep going?”

I shivered involuntarily. “Staying here in the mansion is the _last_ thing I want to do,” I said with passion. “Anywhere but here would be more appealing. Until we know how to save my mother.”

Ladybug nodded. “Somehow, I expected that reaction.” She looked to Spider-Man. “How about you? This looks like it might take longer than a day – do you need us to get you home?”

Spidey stood a bit taller. “I don’t desert my friends in their time of need,” he said softly. “And I think you could use my help.”

“I can’t deny that,” I said. “I think I’m going to need both you and Pegasus.”

“Then it’s settled,” he smiled. “I just need to make a really long-distance phone call to let my Aunt know I’m going to be late for dinner.”

“She won’t be suspicious?” Ladybug asked, shooting me a look. It was the first time Spidey had mentioned his family to us, and I filed it away for later.

“It’s not uncommon for Mister Stark to spirit me away as part of my internship,” he laughed. “I’ll simply omit that fact that I’m not actually here with him.”

“She’s gonna be mad if she ever discovers the truth,” I said.

“Probably,” he laughed again. “But she loves me. Enough to forgive most of my sins.”

My mind flashed again to the casket deep underground below us, and I nodded, knowing the same had once been true for me as well.

“All right,” Ladybug replied just as the metal shutters rolled up from the bathroom window. “Then let’s be off. Pegasus is already back at our lab, and we’ll drop you off on our way, Spidey. The two of you need to go over the data you collected.”

“Where are you going?” he asked as we moved toward the window.

“Chat and I need to visit with an old friend of ours. One we _hope_ might have some answers this time.” She paused on the threshold of the window. “If he doesn’t, it’s going to be up to us to use what we’ve learned here today to end Hawkmoth reign.”

“No pressure,” I said drolly as we leapt away into the night. 


	67. Known Unknowns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Seeing Chat is on the ragged edge, Ladybug seeks help from Master Fu; the duo find not every question should be answered._

The last time I had visited Master Fu, I’d actually been a true feline courtesy of an akuma. It had been pretty nerve wracking as experiences go, as for a while there it looked like I might never be able to return to my human form. Of course, Ladybug had come through as she always did, and no small part of me was praying that this time out, somehow, we’d have a similar outcome.

As we ran across the darkened rooftops of Paris, more and more of my brain was preoccupied with what we had found deep beneath the mansion. Questions I had no way to answer kept bubbling up – so many, in fact, that I’d stopped keeping track of them entirely. And all of those paled in comparison to the ultimate secret that had been uncovered; having Hawkmoth turn out to be Gabriel Agreste just made me numb through-and-through.

Not because I was suddenly concerned for my personal safety; no, more from my seeming inability to have sniffed out my nemesis who happened to be living in my home. Maybe that wasn’t fair – I had done a reasonably good job of hiding my own secret alter-ego – but it didn’t diminish the overwhelming feeling I had let Paris down. 

Let Ladybug down.

I was so wrapped up in self-recrimination that I pulled a rookie maneuver and planted my baton at a wrong angle on the sidewalk far below me; it caught an edge of something, bending at a funny angle as a result. Momentum threw me past it, and I found myself clawing at empty air as the metal stick sprung away from me. I would have laughed at the cartoonish quality of the moment if the ground hadn’t been rushing upward at me with a passionate rapidity.

What _did_ slow down was time, and, oddly, I found myself deeply upset that everything was going to end this way. As a superhero who had fought back everything Hawkmoth had thrown at us, to become a splattered mess in the middle of a major thoroughfare seemed rather undignified. Not to mention the chemistry final I was going to miss – especially after I’d finally managed to master those pesky quantum calculations, too.

Closing my masked eyes, I mentally tried to brace for the inevitable… and suddenly had a face full of something squishy and rather foul smelling. It took me a long, long moment to realize my descent had stopped, but that I was still moving, albeit horizontally. Trying hard not to breath – the stink was truly awful – I cracked open a feline eye and discovered myself in the back of a refuse truck. One that had apparently reached capacity and was therefore heading toward the landfill on the outskirts of Paris.

Sitting up slightly, I reached a paw to my face and removed what was left of an overripe banana from my face – oh, the irony – and tried hard not to retch. My enhanced feline senses were on overdrive, and the amazing cacophony of smell surrounding me was close to overwhelming. Only on one prior occasion had I been forced to seek refuge in a dumpster from an akuma; I’d later spent nearly four hours in the shower trying desperately to scrub the scent off of me.

Ignoring the other rotting produce I was sitting in, I leapt to the open edge of the truck and pulled myself over and onto the small ledge rimming the space. Surprisingly, Ladybug was nowhere to be seen, and I felt my ears wilt slightly at the prospect she hadn’t realized I was missing. Timing it just right, I vaulted from the moving truck to an overhanging lamp, swung around and landed on the sidewalk in a crouch, surprising a flock of pigeons in the process.

The evening just continued to get better.

My eyes started to water as they scattered to the four winds; stifling a sneeze, I darted through surprised pedestrians to retrace my steps and locate my pesky baton. The truck had been moving, so much so I was rather shocked to find we’d gone six blocks from where I’d started my fall. Leaping up into a tall tree, I pulled myself out onto a branch and started to squint up and down the street; it took longer than I wanted before I caught a glint of metal beneath a stairwell. Hurling myself over traffic, I repeated my lamppost loop and landed next to the spot, snagging my baton in a paw.

“Let’s not do that again,” I told the baton as I gently dusted it off. I may have even kissed it in apology.

“There you are,” I heard from above and behind me as I slid the offending gizmo to it’s spot on the small of my back.

I turned upward and smiled at Ladybug, who was hanging off a ledge. “I tried another route,” I laughed, feeling my spirits lifting at seeing her. “It wasn’t very apeeling.”

My partner looked at me oddly. “All right,” she said slowly. “But that doesn’t explain whatever it is you have smeared on the front of your costume.”

I looked down as she dropped to the ground. “Oh—”

“Are you all right?” she asked quickly as she looked me over, running gloved hands across portions of my costume.

I swallowed slightly at her touch; it was electric and sizzled right through my costume. “Yes, Milady. Just a meowstake in batoning. Nothing major.”

Leaning closer, she sniffed at the mess on my chest. “This smells like—”

I sighed. “Papaya, guava, banana and pineapple,” I identified. “Well past their due date, I might add.”

“Oh, Chat,” she said, and the giggles she’d been holding back started to seep out. “That’s just…”

“I know,” I smiled, and found that I was starting to laugh too. “It wasn’t berry funny.”

Ladybug started to chortle and had to lean over, hands on her knees. It was so infectious, I started to giggle wildly myself. Looking around, I realized we’d drawn perhaps too much attention as a crowd had started to form. Choking back my laughter, I nodded at Ladybug and the two of us shot upward toward the relative safety of the darkened rooftop above. Stashing my baton for the second time in less than two minutes, I pressed my back to the brick surrounding a skylight and simply let go. The laughter at the insanity of my near disaster just spilled out as I slid down into a seated position. Ladybug joined me, sliding a hand behind my back as she snuggled into my shoulder.

I have no idea how long we just let it wash over us, but after a while I felt the calm, peaceful feeling that comes after a solid round of laughter. I’d long heard of the healing properties of humor, but this was the first time I’d ever felt it myself. There was no denying how horrific the day’s events had been, that much was certain; still, for the first time in a few hours, I felt more centered than I had in… well… hours. I leaned my mane into my partner’s head. “I didn’t realize how badly I needed that,” I said softly.

“We both did,” she smiled up at me, her eyes filled with the unconditional love I’d come to enjoy. 

For whatever reason, it made me sad. “Can you still… love me?” I asked as I looked away. “Knowing who I am… related to?”

I felt her finger at my chin, and she turned me to face her. “Yes,” she said simply. “You are not your father,” she added as she pulled herself closer to me. “Not by any measurement I live by.”

“I’ve lived with Hawkmoth for nearly two years,” I said softly. “Does that make me complicit? Was I willfully ignoring signs of who he truly was? Who Nathalie was working for and supporting?”

“No,” she said firmly. “Clearly he has well-honed ability for deceit. Running the top fashion empire in Paris by day and moonlighting as a supervillain by night – I think you have to accept that he was capable and able to box both sides of his life up without any sort of overlap.”

“Until recently?” I asked. “The trip to California tipped his hand a bit.”

“Based on what—_who_—we found beneath the mansion, I think I can understand why,” Ladybug replied. “You remember ages ago Hawkmoth telling us we didn’t know the full extent of our powers?”

“I think of it each time I transform,” I said honestly.

“We know he has the grimoire,” she said thoughtfully. “I bet he’s been racing to translate it, just as Master Fu has been. Maybe he’s discovered something.”

“It has to do with my mother,” I said with certainty.

“Undoubtedly,” she agreed. “Which means we need to know what he’s figured out.”

“We know one thing,” I said. “He desperately wants our Miraculous. Whatever he’s discovered must require them.”

Ladybug looked at me and started to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, she stood up and held out her hand. “Come on, let’s see if Master Fu can shed any light on this for us.”

* * *

Much, much later, hours after the tea set had been cleared away, the three of us were huddled around Master Fu’s tablet. After giving him the broad strokes of what we had discovered – and who – his expression had grown solemn and he’d quickly huddled with Wayzz; to my surprise, he’d then punched his secret code into the gramophone, releasing all of the other kwamis to add them to the conversation. Ladybug and I had even dropped our transformations so Plagg and Tikki could contribute; I was quietly thankful for the opportunity to eliminate the odiferous remnants of my earlier excursion.

It had been somewhat fruitful (pardon the pun), though now that I was happily back behind the mask and under the feline ears, I wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation. To a one, the kwamis agreed that what I had described seeing in that underground mausoleum aligned with ancient prophecy; one warning against the intentional misuse of a Miraculous.

“In what way?” Marinette had asked. “I don’t mean to question, but clearly Hawkmoth has perverted the purpose of the Moth Miraculous. And yet he seems none the worse for wear.”

“Master will need to find the exact text,” Wayzz had explained. “But much depends on the abilities of the holder and in no small part how capably they are able to manipulate their kwami.”

I’d nodded, seeing something in that explanation that reflected my own personal experience with Father. “The kwami is bonded to the holder, though, right? It wouldn’t matter how well the holder convinces them to do their bidding – they have to, right?”

“Mostly,” Plagg had smiled. “While we _are_ bound to the holder, we also have free will. Once the selection has been made, we generally fall into line with the holder’s wishes. But not always – especially in the early stages of the relationship, when we can… bend… the holder a bit more; as they become older and more powerful, though, we have less of an ability to influence _them_.” He paused as he looked at me. “Hawkmoth’s had to have initially convinced his kwami that his actions were for the greater good. And now he’s too powerful.”

I’d been turning Plagg’s comments around and around in my feline brain as Master Fu quickly paged through the photos of the grimoire. My masked eyes felt like they had a serious layer of grit in them, and I resisted the urge to check the baton for the time knowing it was well into the wee hours of the night. Part of me wondered if anyone at the mansion would care if they popped into my bedroom and found me missing; for the first time, I found myself no longer concerned if they did or didn’t.

“Ah,” the Guardian said softly as his fingers paused. Slowly he started to trace the odd characters on the page he’d blown up, then shifted to an image that was surprisingly familiar: a supine person, arms folded, atop a raised dias of some type. “I’m afraid it’s what I feared,” he said as he rubbed his eyes.

“What?” I asked.

He looked at me with kindness. “Chat, please remember we do not yet understand the motivations of your parents. It could well be that a horrible accident befell your mother, nothing more sinister than that.”

“Hawkmoth’s current efforts notwithstanding,” I snorted.

Master Fu just looked at me with that kind, grandfatherly manner he sometimes adopted. “I’m aware you are hurting, Chat. And I am truly sorry for what you have been put through. No one bears more responsibility than I do for placing you into this situation—-“

“Master,” I cut him off. “I am thankful every day for what being Chat has let me become. I accepted the burden willingly and would do it again in a heartbeat.”

His wizened face appraised my masked visage. “Even if you’d known who Hawkmoth was?”

“Yes,” I said without a trace of hesitation. “Can we save my mother?”

Fu sighed. “I suspect from this text and what the kwamis have shared your mother is in a magic-induced state not dissimilar to a coma. It’s likely a result of using a damaged Miraculous, which this section here describes.”

I looked to the image. “How long can someone survive in a state like that?”

“A day, maybe two,” Master Fu replied. “Perhaps a week depending on the strength of the holder.”

“Spider-Man was right, then. The device she’s in must be generating a stasis field.”

“Yes,” Fu nodded. “Take her out of it…”

I frowned. “I can’t leave her there. Not like that.”

Ladybug put her gloved hand to my arm. “Chat, I know how hard it sounds – but it might be best. At least for a short while – long enough for Master Fu to piece together something.”

Something that had been hiding in the back of my feline brain finally came to the fore, and I frowned. “It’s the reason he wants our Miraculous, isn’t it?” I asked softly, eyes downcast. “Markov told us when he was akumatized,” I added as I looked to Ladybug. Her eyes told me I was right.

“Probably,” she nodded slowly.

For a moment, my anger flared. “How long have you known?” I demanded.

Ladybug dropped her head. “Master Fu and I discussed it a long time ago,” she admitted. “He was attempting to explain to me why it would be so terrible were Hawkmoth to get our Miraculous.” She looked up. “The power he would wield is terrifying, frankly, but you are right to be annoyed with me. I – _we_,” she corrected, looking meaningfully to Master Fu, “should have told you the details sooner.”

For a brief moment, I felt a small ray of hope that there was a quick way out of this – that we could somehow expeditiously save my mother. It was nearly instantly snuffed out by a shiver of fear. 

“We… can we…?” I asked, unwilling even to verbalize my thoughts. Just thinking about what I had started to suggest had me shaking my wild mane, for it was antithetical to who I was, and what I represented as Chat. “No,” I answered myself.

My partner nodded slowly. “While it’s technically possible,” she said softly, “we both know we can’t go down that path. And even if we somehow convinced ourselves to throw all of our ethics to the wind, if Master Fu is right, the cost it would extract could quite possibly be worse than what your mother has already gone through.”

I looked to the Guardian, knowing my feline ears were wilted. “There might be something in the grimoire we can use, Chat,” he said gently. “But I will need time. And materials. His nefarious actions aside, Hawkmoth seems intent on protecting your mother; for the moment, that is the safest spot for her. I would counsel against moving her until we know more.”

My masked eyes darted between them. “You’re both actually asking me to go _back_ to the mansion and act as though none of this has happened?” I asked incredulously. “That goes against every feline fiber in my body!”

“You know it’s the right move, Chat,” Ladybug said softly. “Besides, who better than a wily black cat to keep tabs on Hawkmoth?” she added before kissing me gently on the cheek. “You won’t be alone. One of us will be with you at all times; I have no desire to put you any further into harm’s way.”

I started to object, but in a moment of clarity I saw Ladybug was right – as she usually was. Slowly, I started to nod, and found a part of me looking forward to the challenge of working against Father right under his nose. A crafty feline smile finally appeared. “All right.”

“Good,” Ladybug smiled before she turned to Master Fu. “I hate to ask, but how much time are you going to need?”

Fu sighed. “I don’t know yet. I’m sorry, Ladybug, but I will work as fast as I can.”

She nodded and turned back to me. “We’ll need to send Spidey home then; but we can bring him back when the time is right.”

I nodded. “We’ll need his help,” I said softly.

“We’ll need everyone’s help,” Ladybug replied quietly as her masked blue eyes shifted to the tablet. “And no small amount of good luck.”

I sighed. “I have a feline you are right.”


	68. Sleepless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat settles into an uncomfortable routine while Master Fu attempts to decode the secrets of the grimoire. Knowing how tough it is on her partner, Ladybug goes out of her way to make sure her kitty is well cared for._

One significant problem to being fifteen was the decided lack of autonomy; more than most, though, my days tended to be scripted out to the minute, allowing me to fulfill the strictures of being Adrien Agreste. Evenings had become my refuge, for they generally afforded me the only flexibility to, well, _be_ a teenager. At least, as much of one as passed in the Agreste household.

The escape of Chat Noir had therefore not been unwelcomed, allowing me to make better use of those free blocks of time. Chat didn’t care about rules around curfew and homework and being a diligent, respectful son; he _did_ care about Ladybug, protecting Paris, and enjoying the freedom to come and go as his feline heart desired. It was an intoxicating drug that I never tired of, even if it did require me to throw myself into harm’s way more often than I cared to admit in order to keep Ladybug – and the city I loved – safe.

It was a deal I’d take any take any day.

I found it to still be true ten days after my conversation with Master Fu and the discovery of the glass casket containing my mother in a secret room deep below the mansion. True to my word, I had returned to my home and put on the best façade I could despite knowing Father was Hawkmoth, Nathalie was likely Mayura, and my mother was no longer missing and instead hanging on the very brink of death. What surprised me more, I think, was how easy it had become for me to act _normal_; for the first time, it was beneficial for them to ignore me as I ate alone or trudged off to fencing or retired to my room to practice piano. The _normal_ routine the household had become accustomed to actually protected me and my dual identify more than I had ever realized. Much like Clark Kent in the old Superman comic books, Ordinary Adrien (as played by me) was easily overlooked as a threat.

Ladybug had kept her promise, too, ensuring that I was never alone. Quite literally. Marinette had long been omnipresent by my side at school; she entrusted the before and after hours to the other core members of Team Miraculous, Carapace and Rena, who also conveniently knew my alter-ego. It didn’t seem wise to involve anyone else quite yet, though despite the direness of the situation, I knew if we _did_ have to entrust them with the secret of who Hawkmoth was, it would have cemented a grim determination to protect their classmate at all costs. That meant more to me than they could ever imagine, for it redefined friendship for me in a way I’d not considered before then.

Ladybug had cleverly gone with a one-on-three-off nightly rotation for the core members of our team, ensuring at least one transformed holder would stand watch over me at the mansion each evening. I’d initially protested, arguing I could simply remain as Chat Noir and hold down the fort, but she’d not hear of it; of course, it wasn’t lost on me that LB’s primary reasoning for my having nightly company was to prevent any further unauthorized expeditions and/or engagements with Hawkmoth.

Ladybug knew me only too well.

Evening ten into our new rotation, I was lounging on the roof of the mansion beside Carapace, arms folded behind my out-of-control mane as I stargazed at what little was visible through the veil of clouds that had been threatening all day. The weather had shifted to neatly reflect our common mood, the grey overcast days blending into the darker than normal nights. Given that we were still, technically, in the throes of winter, there was a real possibility of snow; in fact, the new junior weather forecaster at the television station had been waxing poetic about the meter or so of accumulation we might be facing over the weekend. Shifting slightly, I was thankful once again that my costume kept me nice and toasty against the chill of the evening, though I could see my breath in the dim light.

Not that I ever needed a justification for donning the ears and mask, but finding out _who_ Hawkmoth was had lent an air of necessity to the act. For the most part when I _wasn’t_ Adrien, I _was_ Chat these days, and even Plagg hadn’t truly been able to argue the point with me. Living with the prime supervillain of the moment truly required my ability to respond immediately, though it was costing me a small fortune in Camembert as a result. Mostly it was due to my guilt at what I was putting Plagg through, though a small part of me felt like I might be forced to continue to spoil my kwami moving forward. Closing my eyes, I lost myself in the sounds and smells of Paris and thought it a small price to pay for the abilities he was able to give me. 

As much as I’d have loved to have dropped off to sleep, part of me had been fighting it since making my gruesome discovery. For dreams brought with them uncomfortable images of that glass casket, and the repetitive nightmare where I was unable to do anything to save my mother. Short catnaps snatched here and there throughout the day were the most I’d allowed myself, but I knew it wasn’t enough. I didn’t realize how apparent it was to everyone else, though, until Carapace gently cleared his throat.

“Dude, are you sleeping?” he asked, voice laced with concern.

“Human-sized cats apparently never rest,” I sighed, cracking open a faintly glowing feline eye to look at my best friend. “You’d think they would, given how many hours a day the common household variety sleeps.”

Carapace chuckled. “Your household feline brethren aren’t also trying to keep a major metropolitan area from Hawkmoth’s control, either.”

“True,” I smiled as Carapace flipped to face me. “Thanks for being here, man. I know it’s not as easy for you to sneak away from your parents.”

Cap groaned. “No kidding. My brother especially. He seems to have this unerring ability to appear outside my bedroom door when I’m getting ready to go out the window.”

For a moment I had a mental image of Nino partially transformed, frantically trying to decide what to do. “That’s can’t be easy,” I frowned. “It’s not like you can pause the process halfway and reverse it.”

“Don’t I know it,” he chuckled. “So far, so good though.”

My masked eyes widened. “Wait, you’re transforming while he’s outside your door? What does he think you’re doing?”

Carapace laughed a bit louder. “I told him the truth: I’m transforming into a turtle superhero.”

“Cap—”

“Don’t panic, bro,” he said, catching my shocked expression. “I use the Miraculous game on PlayStation to cover my exit; I always have it up when I need to go out, with the audio up just enough to make it seem like I’m doing something.”

“Oh,” I said, a little chagrined I’d even thought my friend had played loose and fast with his secret identity.

“I can’t take credit for the idea,” he laughed. “Rena’s the one that came up with the sleight of hand. But I’ve got him thinking I’m, well, playing _me_ on the game. I did a few test nights to set his expectations – went through he motions as if I were going to go out.” He smiled again. “Those first few times he ‘caught’ me, I had to show him; now it’s old hat and he doesn’t even pester me to see any longer.”

“That’s brilliant,” I admitted. “Kind of like my piano recordings.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, snapping his gloved fingers to accentuate the point. Carapace paused for a long moment as he studied me. “I think it’s a good thing our bugalicious lady has us keeping an eye on you,” he said.

I narrowed my masked eyes at him. “Oh?”

“This can’t be easy, can it?” he asked, seeing the answer in my feline eyes as he nodded. “You would like nothing more than to take it right to moth dude. Or risk seeing your mom again.”

I flipped to my back, blowing my bangs out of my face. “I won’t deny how hard it’s been to keep from crawling down into that mausoleum he’s built and visit with Mother, even if she’s insensate and wouldn’t know me from any other alley cat.”

“No one would blame you,” he said softly. “But it’s not the right move.”

“Not yet,” I agreed. “Knowing that, logically, doesn’t assuage the serious waves of guilt I feel over not attempting to free her. Or do _something_ vaguely in the realm of superhero-ish.”

Cap put a hand to my bicep. “I’d say finding her in the first place checks that box, Chat.”

I turned toward him. “How do you figure?”

He smiled at me. “Dude, you were locked inside this place with Hawkmoth. And yet you managed to evade detection _and_ find his secret lair _and_ your mother. If that doesn’t define _hero_ then you need a new dictionary.”

I started to protest, for in truth it had felt more like I’d been bumbling my way through the events of two weeks ago. But it died on my lips as the weight of what he said sunk it. He wasn’t wrong: sneaking around the mansion as Chat had been seriously dangerous, given the real possibility of being discovered by Hawkmoth, though it was also true I’d solved the mystery of my mother’s whereabouts in the process. I might not have saved her – yet – but we were a whole heck of a lot closer to shutting down our nemesis than ever before.

“You’re right,” I said, smiling a bit. “I just hadn’t thought of it in those terms.”

“Of course I’m right,” he smiled as he settled back against the rooftop. 

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I chuckled as I leaned back against my arms once more.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

We lounged for a bit before I found myself unable to prevent a yawn – a first, considering how hard I’d been attempting to hide how tired I was. It was big enough to feel as though I had dislocated my jaw, and attracted the attention of my friend.

“Dude, you really should try to get some sleep,” he said. “You’re no use to anyone if you can’t keep your eyes open.”

I did a full-on feline stretch, a luxurious feeling in and of itself, but couldn’t dispense with the immediate image of the glass casket that again popped into my head. “I’m good,” I replied. “And I don’t want to leave you up here alone.”

“I signed up for this,” he reminded me. “And Ladybug will be relieving me in an hour.” He looked at me with a tiny sly smile. “You don’t want to still be awake when she gets here, dude.”

My masked eyes widened. “It’s not her night.”

“Oops,” Carapace said, putting a gloved hand to his mouth. “Guess I let that little surprise out of the bag. Still, she’s expecting me to hand off with you snugly in bed.”

“Carapace, I’m—”

“_Dude_,” he exhorted. “Trust me. Now go.”

Shaking my head, I pushed myself up. “You drive a hard bargain,” I said. 

“It’s for your own good,” he reminded me as he practically shoved me toward my bedroom window. “Go.”

“Fine… _fine_,” I muttered as I flipped to all fours and crept to the edge of the rooftop, tail swishing unhappily as I went. 

Carefully, I lowered my head to the open glass, and once I’d confirmed the room was empty, pulled myself around to land on the sill in an easy perch. I had to admit, I was a little grumpy at being told what to do, but I also knew my friend was right; a tired Chat Noir was a lousy partner. Mentally I thought I could see the gauge for the batteries that ran me and clucked a bit that they were down in the red zone. I realized just how tired I was to even think like that and chuckled a bit as I surveyed my one-time prison with my night vision.

And caught the faint glint of something flashing over on my stand by the bed.

Arching an eyebrow, I vaulted out of the window and landed a half-meter from the small bureau, and crept around it on all fours. My masked eyes went wider when I discovered my civilian phone was intermittently glowing the universal symbol for a truly dead battery. Leaning upward, I could see it had somehow been knocked slightly askew and was not correctly aligned to the charging dock I used each evening; tapping it with a paw, it chirped happily as it realigned and began to power up.

Feline eyes flicked over to my bed, where I had carefully arranged a few pillows beneath my comforter and a blonde wig from a photoshoot to give the appearance Adrien was snoozing; it wouldn’t pass muster in the daytime, but Ladybug had assured me that such a trick had long worked with her parents. Even with my night vision, at a glance it looked fairly convincing; masked eyes snapping back to the phone, I connected the dots and realized someone had been in my room. 

And had specifically been looking at my phone.

There wasn’t really a question of who, for I was reasonably certain now that Father outsourced much of his spy work to Nathalie. Wracking my fur brain, though, I was also reasonably certain save for the phone being in the dock it had been with my civilian persona all day – and, in fact, that was the case most days. Tapping it with a claw, I was unsure what she would be looking for on it; other than my unusual orders of Camembert, it pretty much only had calls and texts from my friends at school. Even if they dragged the GPS information, the location data would only prove Adrien was where he was expected to be each day, so it was a bit of a head scratching conundrum. As superhero comms had always been done over my Cat Phone, there was nothing connecting Adrien to Chat – though there _were_ thousands of megabytes of Ladybug photos.

That made me smile a bit, for there wasn’t anything really odd about _that_, either. They were on my computer, too, and Nathalie had caught me reading the Ladyblog on more than one occasion when I was supposed to have been doing homework. Normal teenage fantasy type stuff.

My masked eyes popped wider.

One vault and I was at my computer, jiggling the mouse to wake it. As I suspected, it was locked; logging in, I deftly swapped to the system logs and quickly discovered _nat1987_ had logged into my workstation while I’d been at fencing practice. A little more digging and I found ten gigs of data had been copied off of my hard drive, though that was where my high-tech sleuthing skills ended. I’d need Pegasus to review the underlying core of my system, but I had a suspicion that I knew what had been copied.

Shifting screens, I brought up my extensive collection of Ladybug photos and started to peruse them. Nathalie was looking for something, and I needed to figure out what it was. And what I might have had on my phone that would have confirmed or denied her suspicion. Using my better feline reflexes, I dove into the massive number of snapshots and scanned them as quickly as I could; I’d barely gotten through half of them when my feline ears picked up a particular _ziiiiing_ as Ladybug pulled herself into my room.

Landing gently beside me, she leaned forward. “Cap says he told you to get some rest, kitty,” she said quietly.

“He did,” I said as my green eyes flicked across the monitor.

Following my gaze and hearing my all-business tone, she shifted her focus. “What’s gotten your curiosity piqued?” she asked.

“I’m counting the number of dots on your beautiful costume,” I said with a slight cocky smile. “I had no idea they were spaced out so… evenly… and needed to confirm it.”

Ladybug sighed. “And now, the truth, please? Before I lash you to your bed with my yo-yo.”

My feline eyes snapped to hers as my face reddened. There was no way I was going to admit to having had that particular daydream, so I coughed slightly. “Milady, I think Nathalie was in here this evening and pulled something from my civilian phone; she seems to have done the same on my computer.”

Ladybug’s masked eyes widened. “What did she get? Or what was she looking for? Can you tell?”

“Not without more help from Pegasus, no,” I sighed as I turned back. “But the only thing both have in common is tons of photos of you – well, of _Ladybug_. It’s not a secret that Adrien is rather obsessed with her.”

She tapped the edge of her yo-yo against her chin. “We must have really rattled him,” she said softly. 

A thought struck me. “Should we be worried they assumed it was Ladybug that broke in?” I asked, concerned. “Or is this little violation of purrsonal space unrelated to my nocturnal tour of the mansion?”

“I have to believe it’s related,” she said as she continued to tap the yo-yo. “But as always, we need more information.”

I looked back at my computer. “It’s the weekend,” I observed. “I have a photoshoot in—” I glanced at the clock on the computer’s desktop, “—less than five hours, but that is the only thing on the ‘official’ Adrien calendar for Saturday.” I looked at Ladybug with a slight smile. “I’ve been itching to try Max’s latest iteration of the Miraculous game.”

Ladybug returned the smile. “And if he happens to also be able to do a forensic dive into your computer while he’s here, so much the better.”

My smile faltered a bit. “We’ll have to bring him into the loop,” I said. “Otherwise, it’s going to look odd for me to ask him to review the system.”

“Maybe not,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s well known that your father controls your, well, _everything_. Let’s go with the cover story that you think your father put some sort of nanny software on your desktop and you’re at long last feeling a bit rebellious.” 

I frowned. “I am quite rebellious,” I said.

She leaned down and tapped the end of my masked nose. “As _Chat_, yes. As Adrien… not so much.”

I nodded slowly. “That’s true,” I agreed grudgingly. “I think it can work. I’ll call him at breakfast and then work Nathalie on the ride to the photoshoot.”

“Excellent,” she said as she stepped away. “Now, to bed, kitty.”

“I’m not—”

I cut myself off when I saw the _don’t you dare cross me, kitty_ look from Ladybug and rather meekly slid out of my desk chair and loped on all fours over to my bed. Hopping up, I tried to compose my features into the most miserable feline imaginable as I pulled back the sheets and kicked out the pillows that had been masquerading as Adrien. 

“Fine,” I pouted, folding my ears back to enhance the effect.

“Transform,” she ordered, voice stern and hands on hips.

“But—”

“Chat,” Ladybug said softly as she slid onto the bed beside me. “I know you’re having trouble sleeping. I get it. But I need my partner to be as rested as he can in case Hawkmoth throws us a curveball.”

“Which he will,” I added.

“He will.” She stroked behind an ear, and dammit, I started to purr. Smiling, she continued. “Rest easy, Chat. I’ll keep you safe tonight, and if you are a really good kitty, I’ll make croissants for you in the morning.”

It was too good a bargain. Smiling slightly, I took a deep breath and nodded. “Plagg – claws in.”

I only half followed Plagg as he phased into existence before hustling off to his supply of cheese. As I rested my head on my pillow, Ladybug continued to scratch just behind where a feline ear would have been, and I finally gave myself over to Morpheus. The last thing I felt was a gentle kiss to my cheek, followed by a very quiet, whispered promise.

“I’ll be right here with you kitty. Just like you’ve always been there for me...”


	69. I Spy With My Little iPhone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ostensibly over to play video games with Adrien, Max takes a deep dive into Adrien’s electronics, and is able to paint a somewhat more complicated picture of Nathalie’s actions the night previous._

I’m not certain what time Ladybug left, for when I awoke at Nathalie’s touch the following morning, I groggily realized I’d gone down for the count and had been quite literally out of it. Blinking at Father’s assistant, I only vaguely picked up a few catch phrases along the lines of _you’re running late_ and simply nodded as I shrugged off the sheets. I may or may not have made muttering noises of understanding as I slid off the bed and padded toward the shower, trying hard to clear the cobwebs from my brain.

A dash of cold water to the face, and then another brought some semblance of normalcy, though my reflection told me the makeup artist would be earning their paycheck. Cognizant that my minder was waiting on the other side of the bathroom door, I didn’t dally beneath the luxurious flow of hot water; as I toweled off, I threw a longing look at the half-open bathroom window and the freedom just out of reach. It didn’t help that the costume Father had made for the music video was hanging in the closet, mocking my alter-ego as I laced up my sneakers.

Nathalie hurried me out to the waiting sedan, and I tried not to betray my sense of unease at going anywhere with them. I’d caught the familiar form of a fox-themed costume peeking out from the rooftop opposite, though, and relaxed slightly. Enough that I remembered my small part in the drama that morning.

Timing it just as Nathalie was sliding into the front seat, I used my best Adrien-is-meek voice as I asked: “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have my friend Max over after the photo shoot. He’s got a new version of his game—“

To my surprise, Nathalie distractedly waved her stylus at me and replied: “I’ll tell your father.”

“Thanks!” I said with as much excitement as I could muster, for my feline curiosity wondered what was _more_ important on her tablet.

Hopefully Max could help with that, too.

Despite being tired and not just a little bit hungry (I’d been hustled directly to hair and makeup, where eating was forbidden), we nailed all of the shots this particular photographer was looking for on the first take; on the way back to the mansion for what would now be lunch. I called Max from the sedan.

"It’s funny you should want to play it,” his face smiled on my phone’s display. "I just finished debugging some enhancements I wrote this morning. Let me burn it to a ROM for your console and then I’ll come over. I should arrive in approximately sixty-three minutes. If that’s okay?”

“Totally,” I smiled, truly enthusiastically this time. “It’ll give me a chance to wash off the makeup from the photo shoot and get some lunch.”

_And sneak out to call Ladybug to let her know we’re on schedule._

“Sounds good.”

I reversed myself slightly and breezed through the dining room first, nabbing what passed for lunch when one is a model while making a note to beg Ladybug to bring me some goodies later. My second run through the shower appeared longer than the first, the stated reason being to get the layers of makeup and hair product off of me. But I also knew that the running water would convince any surprise guests to my bedroom I was otherwise occupied – which I was, after frantically scrubbing the nastiness off every square centimeter of my body.

Leaving the water running, I tossed on some comfortable sweats then transformed to Chat. Moments later, I was perched on the ledge of my bathroom window, tail twitching with pent up anxiety as I speed-dialed Ladybug. The tension eased slightly when her beautiful masked face appeared on my baton screen.

“Kitty,” she smiled. “How did the photo shoot go?”

“Well enough,” I replied. “I was successful with Nathalie; Max is on his way over.”

“Good.” She paused, eyes narrowing at me. “I know that look,” she added with a sigh. “Don’t tell me, you had a sprig of lettuce and a slice of cheese again, didn’t you?”

I laughed. “With a handful of grapes. Sadly, someone else got the cheese.”

“I can’t abide how they feed you,” she said hotly. “I’ll swing over with a care package. Anything you want in particular?”

“Besides Belgian Choc--”

“Yes,” she laughed. “Those are a given.”

“Any chance your mom did corn chowder this weekend?”

“I’ll ask,” she smiled. “See you later!”

I slid the baton back and dropped to the tile of my bathroom, thankful for so many varied reasons that Ladybug was in my life. Her near-constant supply of food had been a welcome perk, given how many calories I burned as a superhero. I’d spoken openly of my worry I was eating her parent’s profits, but she assured me that, as the “official” boyfriend of Marinette, it wasn’t a problem. I wondered if that would change once Adrien stepped into that role.

Crouched on the tile as I was, the white noise from the cascading water of the shower put me in a pensive mood as I awaited Max’s arrival. The ache of wanting to do something for my mother hadn’t receded in the least, and I felt a guilty thinking about my personal love life while she (hopefully) slumbered away meters below me. In a way it was important to consider, for as much as I would love to remain her feline boyfriend forever, there would be a time when my alter-ego would need to be her main squeeze. 

A sly smile hit my masked face, for that didn’t preclude being a cat for her in private.

I stretched out my back and heard with satisfaction my spine cracking as my muscles rippled with the effort. As I stood, I released Plagg and then reached in to shut off the water, muusing internally if I was, in fact, facing my final days – or hours, for that matter – as Chat Noir. Close to two years as superhero wasn’t a bad gig, but if I were being honest, I wasn’t entirely ready to turn in my cat ears and tail. Not yet.

Plagg zipped into his closet supply of Camembert as I headed across my bedroom to the Xbox. I had to keep up appearances, after all, and was just getting past the main menu when there was a knock at the door.

Turning, I watched as the door opened and the small form of Max appeared. Like all of us, he had experienced a growth spurt and had added a half-dozen centimeters; by comparison, though, I still felt like I towered over him. “Hey!” I said warmly, nodding to my bodyguard as he closed the door. “Thanks for coming.”

“Any chance to have someone beta test my game is worth the effort,” he replied earnestly. Holding up a small holder, he smiled slightly. “Here’s the game. I had to use a new compression routine to get it to fit on this DVD-ROM. I don’t think your console will have trouble, it should load up--”

“Yeah, about that...” I started, my hand snaking to the back of my neck. Mindful of what had happened a while ago when Max had wanted us to play an earlier iteration of his software, I treaded carefully as I watched his face. “I actually might have asked you here under false pretenses. I _do_ want to play your game,” I added hastily as he started to frown. “But I think I have a problem with both my phone _and_ my computer.”

He looked at me. “What kind of problem?”

I glanced at the door and lowered my voice. “I think my father’s assistant is spying on me,” I whispered. “I can’t prove it, and though I have some computer skills, I’m not sure I know what I’m looking for.”

“What made you suspicious?” he asked.

Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I held it to him. “I... woke up this morning and found the phone slightly askew in the charger,” I explained. “I’m pretty diligent about how I treat my phone, and with a schedule like mine, I can’t afford to be caught with a dead battery. Then I noticed someone else had logged into my desktop and downloaded a bunch of data.”

Max took my phone after I unlocked it and started to tap at it. His fingers flew across the screen faster than I could follow, and soon the changing screens became a blur. “Could you tell what kind of data?” he asked, his mind thoroughly engrossed in my problem. The game rested on the arm of the couch, forgotten for the moment.

“No,” I said. “I could tell from the system logs that it had happened, but to be honest, I don’t know how to dig any deeper.”

He nodded as he pushed his glasses up with a finger. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he said, effortlessly multitasking. “I’ve seen you in action.”

“You... have?” I asked, wondering if we were still talking about my computer skills.

“Yes,” he replied as he looked up. “You hide it well, but you know your stuff when it comes to science and technology.” 

“Thanks,” I said, face flaming slightly. “I guess that means I’m not just another pretty face, eh?”

“Oh, you are that, too,” he laughed.

If I’d had my feline ears at that moment, they would have shot straight up in shock. “Max--”

“This is buried deep,” he said as if I’d not started to speak. “But there is definitely classic nanny software installed.” 

“What?” I said, trying to keep from growling. “My phone is with me nearly all the time! How could they get it on there?”

“All sorts of ways,” he shrugged. “Bluetooth, email attachment, buried in an app you use, you name it. Though you don’t have much on here,” he added as an afterthought. “Save for thousands of photos of Ladybug...”

This time my face _did_ flame as his dark eyes lifted to meet mine, a slight smile playing at his lips. “I’m a fan,” I said in a rush. “Who wouldn’t be?” I asked, that traitorous hand going to the back of my neck again. “She’s smart, cute, a true leader...”

“And taken,” he reminded me.

“She... is?” I asked weakly. It _was_ something of a shock to hear him say that since technically LB and Chat weren’t a couple, though Chat wasn’t dating Marinette publicly. That Max would have picked up on the undercurrent between us made me worry that we were not hiding it as well as I thought from our extended team members.

_Hiding?_ I thought. _Who am I kidding? I flirt with her all the time when we’re transformed._

“Adrien,” Max said. “I don’t want to be the one to break it to you, but I think she’s got her heart set on someone else.”

“Well,” I said, smiling slightly, “it wouldn’t be the first time I’d been overlooked.”

Returning to the phone, Max frowned. “This looks more like it was embedded into the OS directly,” he said distractedly. “I think it was added before the phone was given to you.” He looked up. “How new is this device?”

“Six months,” I said, a pit forming in my stomach. “Nathalie got me the latest iPhone when it came out.”

He nodded. “Cleverly done,” he said. “It’s definitely tracking your GPS but it also seems to be cloning your files fairly regularly. Photos, emails, text messages.” He poked a bit more and smiled. “The recent iOS update closed the hole they’d been using to transmit the data.” Max looked up. “It was manually downloaded via Bluetooth last night around twenty-two hundred.”

I blinked. “What is in that data that would possibly be of interest?” I asked, floored at the level of tracking that, at least for the past half year, had been imposed on me. “All it would prove is I am a Ladybug fanboy and I am where my father wants me to be.”

Max shook his head. “No, it’s doing far more than just keeping tabs on you. Your phone has been connecting quietly to any other Bluetooth-capable device it comes on a very low power frequency.”

Something clicked. “That would keep my battery from draining too fast, right?”

“Exactly,” he nodded. “You’d have become suspicious sooner if such a new phone wasn’t keeping its charge.” He turned the display toward me. “The log it creates is stored in your onboard storage, a log that catalogs each device. That log was the most recent thing downloaded. Do you recognize any of these numbers?”

I squinted at the display. Max was deep into the subsystem of my iPhone, on a screen I had no idea existed. Glowing in green monospaced font was a lengthy table, and as I scanned it, I could see the numbers of all of my schoolmates. My eyes widened in slight panic when I caught a particular number that no one should ever have seen. And then found repeatedly as I scrolled.

Tapping the screen, I asked: “I recognize the numbers, but what are the rest of these columns?”

“That is the unique ID of the device, the kind of hardware encountered – phone, tablet, that sort of thing; this column here is the time and date of the tagging, along with the GPS coordinates of your phone when the device was cataloged.”

The color drained from my face. “How accurate is the GPS?”

“Within a square meter, more or less. Depends on whether you were connected to the cell network or local wireless internet at the time.” He shrugged. “Close enough.”

“Max,” I said slowly, “can you download this yourself and map it out for me?”

“Sure,” he said, starting to my computer. “It won’t take--”

“Not here,” I said, pulling him back. 

“Okay,” he nodded. “Makes sense,” he added as he angled his head to the computer. “Especially if that is compromised too.”

Sitting down, Max worked his own special brand of magic but I was miles away. The GPS tracking, along with a few of the records on that log had rattled me badly – enough that I knew I needed to get to Ladybug as quickly as I could. I worked overtime to set aside the horror of what my father – via his proxy – was doing to his own son. His motivations took on a different light knowing he was Hawkmoth, but I still felt like I was missing a key piece of the puzzle.

_Why track Adrien?_ I wondered to myself. _You set his schedule, for crying out loud! Was it to see who I was coming into contact with? A way to monitor my friends?_

My eyes hit on the wallpaper image of Ladybug flying over Paris on my desktop as Max worked, and a chill crossed my spine as I thought: _No, you want to know if I’m in contact with Ladybug. And if you can use _me_ to get to _her_. Wow._

Max had to tap me on the shoulder to get my attention again. “Same here,” he said again. “It’s been tracking your movements on the internet and downloading a copy of your email, instant messages and other data. MacOS had a similar update, which closed the hole that allowed them to get the data remotely.”

“Wow,” I said, sagging against my desk. “Just... wow.”

“Your father doesn’t trust you,” Max said simply.

“Apparently not,” I agreed. “Can you block any of this?”

“Yes,” he said.

I nodded thoughtfully. “I might have you do that... but in a bit,” I added, suddenly thinking this might be something a wily black cat would be able to use against Hawkmoth. I wasn’t sure how, yet, but the first part of a plan was starting to form in my feline brain. “Catalog everything you think was taken,” I added. “It might make sense when we compare it with the data from the phone.”

“Got it,” he said. 

For the next hour, I paced impatiently behind Max as he dove deeply through parts of my operating system I didn’t know existed; on any other day, I would have paid rapt attention in order to up my own game, but instead I desperately wanted him to wrap up and go home. “I’ve done what I can here,” he said as he pushed back, “and with your permission, I’ll work with Markov to analyze what I’ve found.” 

“I appreciate it,” I said as I subtly pushed him toward the door. “You’ll tell me as soon as you're done?”

“Yes,” he said, arching an eyebrow. 

I realized I wasn’t being very subtle and laughed. “Sorry,” I apologized, “I’m a bit on edge based on what you’ve told me.”

“I understand,” he said. “You might want to ‘break’ your phone,” he observed dryly. “And then insist on going to the Apple store yourself.” He paused a beat. “With a friend.”

I took my phone back and smiled. “Count on it,” I said as I put my hand on his shoulder. “And thanks for being my friend,” I added warmly.

He smiled. “And for being _mine_,” he said softly.

Walking him out, I waved to him from the massive double front doors of the mansion and waited until he’d rounded the edge of the gate before bolting back up the steps, two at a time. I couldn’t help how I was telegraphing my distress and hoped it would read as though I were anxious to get back to the game Max had tactfully left for me. Zipping through my bedroom door, I’d barely closed it before starting to call for my transformation.

Then I paused, my eyes landing on the iPhone in my hand.

_Max was right,_ I thought.

Dashing to the spiral staircase, I scampered up to the mezzanine rounding the bedroom, then paused, considering my options. My eyes fell on the thin railing and felt a sly smile appear as I carefully, oh so carefully, balanced my iPhone precariously on the edge. Plagg moved slightly under my shirt and the smile grew larger, for we were of a mind on how to proceed.

For truly, there was only one proper way to do this.

“Plagg - claws out!”

One green flash of transformation later, I hopped onto the railing and perched, tail twitching, facing the phone. Smiling widely now, I reached a paw out and gently tipped it over the edge, then leaned over myself to track the falling phone with my masked eyes. A part of me was sad when it hit the marble of my bedroom floor and smashed itself into smithereens. But only a small part.

“Bad kitty,” I murmured as I leapt off the railing, hit the ground and leapt up and over the couch to land in the open window. A quick glance behind me had me briefly wondering if I should clean up the mess I’d just created; the odds were in my favor, though, that it would still be there when I returned, untouched. The pattern of Adrien Agreste’s weekends worked in my favor, for once.

Another vault to the fence and then I was helicoptering up into the air, reaching the rooftop opposite the mansion where Ladybug had established an observation post. My feline nose picked up exactly who was on duty well before I landed in a crouch on the tile.

“Milady,” I said as I stowed my baton and stood up. “We have a problem.”

Ladybug paused in her efforts to set out a mini-buffet that my empty stomach was growling for. “Tell me,” she said.

“They’ve been tracking Adrien’s phone,” I explained quickly. “And what other devices it has been encountering. Max showed me the data; they know what hardware I came into contact with, the number if it was a phone, as well as the date, time and the geographic coordinates where the contact was made.”

She looked at me. “From your expression, I take it there’s something beyond just your friends and random strangers on that list.”

“Yes,” I said, the anxiety starting to build in my chest. I held up my baton. 

Her eyes widened. “No...” she breathed before pulling her yo-yo off her hip. “How? These don’t really exist. They’re magic!”

“I don’t know how,” I said morosely as I turned away and walked to the brick wall edging the space. Turning, I leaned against it, arms crossed and tail twitching. “It showed up as an odd device type with a strange number. And the few entries I saw have timestamps that match when I’ve transformed at home and left my iPhone behind.”

She looked at me.

“It won’t take long for Nathalie to cross reference the numbers – I suspect she was doing that this morning, actually,” I said, thinking about her distractedness in the sedan. “The Cat Phone will stand out as unusual, and the GPS will put it inside the mansion.”

The color drained from her face. “You don’t suppose they’ll be able to _track_ the baton?”

“We have to assume they can,” I said, holding out my trusty stick. “Or soon will.”

Ladybug leaned next to me. “This is not good.”

“I agree,” I said, looking over my shoulder at the mansion. “What do we do?”

“We change our approach,” she said firmly. “For starters, you’re not going back to that place.”

“All right,” I said, arching a masked eyebrow. “But Adrien can’t just disappear.”

“Maybe he can,” Ladybug replied thoughtfully. “Let me work on that angle tonight. In the meantime, it might be wise to talk to Plagg and see what adjustments you can make on the baton. It is magic, after all; I imagine it’s easier to change our hardware fingerprint than on a normal iPhone. And about that--”

“I have a plan for that in progress,” I smiled. “One less thing for them to track.”

“Good.” She turned to the food. “Come on, eat up. You need to keep up your strength.”

“I can do that,” I laughed. “But while I’m stuck in the mansion one more night, what are you gonna do?”

“Watch over you, silly – after I first drop in on Master Fu. He’s had to have made some progress.”

“Here’s hoping,” I sighed as I snarfed down my first croissant. “Dear kwami, _please_ have made progress.”


	70. Shifting the Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As Ladybug ponders ways to get Adrien out from underneath the ever-watchful gaze of Gabriel, the duo visits with Master Fu for an update on his progress translating the Grimoire. His unexpected news creates a crisis of conscience for Chat._

Ladybug changed her mind and decided she didn’t want me out of her sight, so I tagged along on her impromptu cross-city trip to visit with the wizened Guardian. We found Master Fu on his rooftop laboratory, puttering between several workbenches under several strings of party lights. If you didn’t know what he was up to, you’d assume, from a distance, he was just another geriatric Parisian pursuing his hobby at an unusually late hour. 

We, of course, knew better.

I landed on the edge of the brickwork above his workbench and perched; from my angle, I could see more detail of his efforts. An enlarged image from the Miraculous Grimoire glowed on the iPad he had angled against a potted fern; two round, blackened ash heaps next to it spoke of successive failures, while a small cauldron burbled atop a spirit lamp in the lucky third spot. Master Fu was stroking his goatee with one hand while observing a small test tube being held in the other, though as I cocked my head in interest, it seemed more like he was staring, unfocused, into the distance.

With rising concern, I felt my masked eyes flick back to the ash circles; prudently, I decided to shift my position to a safer spot a handful of meters away.

My partner gently lowered herself to the patio and retracted her yo-yo as she stepped over to the workbench. “Master Fu?” she asked softly, peeking around him carefully.

“Ladybug,” he said without turning. “Chat Noir. One moment, please,” he warned as the test tube moved to the cauldron.

My feline reflexes shot a paw up to shield my eyes at the resulting blinding flash of light when he tipped the liquid into the bubbling brew. A few moments of furious blinking cleared the worst of the stars from my vision, enough to see a third pile of ash had been added to the workbench. I tried for humor, seeing the frustration on the normally placid face of the Guardian. “If nothing else, that would make for great fireworks,” I observed dryly.

Surprisingly, Master Fu smiled as he looked up at me. “Indeed it would, Chat,” he replied, and as he did so, I was shocked to see how drawn his face was. Master Fu was far from a spring chicken, to be sure, but he’d never seemed older than a favorite uncle might have been. I nearly convinced myself it was a trick of the lighting, for when I blinked again, his face returned to his normal, genial expression. 

_No,_ I thought as my feline eyes continued to observe him, _I saw what I saw. Clearly I am not the only one who has been having trouble sleeping. It also tells me—_

“You’ve not found anything promising yet,” I said as I flipped off the roof and landed beside Ladybug.

Master Fu shook his head, turning away from us and placing his hands on the bench.

I stepped over to the tiny form, and put a paw on his shoulder, shocked anew to feel bone just beneath my touch. How had he grown so gaunt so quickly? Clearly, he had lost weight recently; he’d been a tiny, rotund figure, to be sure, but not overweight enough that he’d truly needed to slim down I any way.

“I know you’re doing what you can for me,” I said quietly, going into full Compassionate Chat mode, “and I have no way to fully express how much it means to me. Get some rest, Master,” I added. “I want to save my mother as badly as anyone, but I have to admit, she’s been in that state for a while now. A few more days won’t likely make any difference at this point.”

Fu rubbed his eyes before turning around; this close, I could see they were bloodshot. “I’ve managed to translate a number of interesting sections, but no, no progress to speak of. Short of the obvious,” he frowned, waving at the two of us.

I shook my mane. “We’ve already ruled out using the combined Miraculous,” I said firmly.

The Guardian nodded with a tired smile. “Never say never,” he replied. 

My masked eyes shot open and I turned to Ladybug. Was he truly suggesting…? “I would think---”

She held up a finger, interrupting my near tirade. “What did you find?” she asked.

“Precious little,” Fu sighed. “But a tantalizing possibility that the ‘cost’ aspect of the process might be a much more nebulous term than I realized earlier.”

I couldn’t help how my feline ears _and_ masked eyes betrayed my shock. “I can’t _believe_ we’re even talking about using the Bug and Cat together! You’ve drilled into us how dangerous it would be!”

“That’s still the case. Especially when they are in the _wrong hands_,” he emphasized. 

“Then this is nuts—” I started to object again and paused when my fur brain registered what he said. “Hang on, what do mean, _wrong_ hands?” I looked to Ladybug, who was slowly nodding,

“Our two Miraculous are designed to be used together,” she said.

“Of _course_ they are,” I snapped, all traces of Compassionate Chat lost to the sudden knot of fear, dread and a tiny bit of anger that was forming in my gut. “It’s how we work so well together.”

She stepped over to me and put her hand to my arm. “Think about it for a moment, Chat. There’s a right way and a wrong way to everything. Even how our two jewels interact.”

I looked at her. In a small corner of my brain, I was starting to see where she was going; the larger emotional part of me was struggling a bit. “Are you trying to tell me that there is a way to do what Hawkmoth is trying to do, but in a ‘proper’ way?”

Master Fu dropped his chin to his chest. “Maybe,” he said slowly. “I’m not sure. I need more time, it seems.”

I could feel my tail tapping somewhat angrily upon the patio stone. “How,” I asked tightly, “would that make us any better than Hawkmoth? Would we not be using our powers inappropriately?”

“They are _designed_ to be used together,” Ladybug repeated again. “To be combined into something more. _We_ are the only pair of jewels that can do that,” she added, turning to Master Fu. “Right?”

He nodded soberly. “The ying and the yang, incarnate.” Master Fu put one hand on each of us. “I’ve seen a lot of Bug and Cat holders in my time,” he added with a wry smile, “and over all of those decades, I’ve never, _ever_ considered this option with any of them. If this is a possible path forward – and I’m not saying it is, not yet – the two of you are the first in several generations that I would trust to pull it off.”

* * *

As we left Master Fu to pour through the Grimoire, I felt as though steam were coming out of my ears – feline and otherwise. Ladybug must have been able to see the waves of displeasure rolling off of me and prudently kept her own council as we made our way back to the mansion. Several blocks from home, though, she’d had enough and motioned for us to pause on a convenient rooftop.

I landed with a rubbery thump along a thin railing that formed a filigree around the edge of the space, and just glared at her as she glided to a spot next to me. “Chat,” she said as she leaned into me. “I’m not advocating for us to do as Master Fu suggests.”

“Seriously?” I said tartly, rolling my eyes. “From where I was standing, it was a bit hard to tell.”

Sighing, she hopped up to sit next to me and despite myself, I allowed her to pull me into a hug. “You can be frustrating Kitty at times,” she said.

“I—”

“Hush,” she said, not unkindly.

I swallowed my objection but continued to glare at her.

“Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely,” I answered without hesitation. “What kind of a question is _that_?”

Ladybug nodded as she reached up to brush away a bang from my mask, exposing my eyes that I knew were still flashing. “Then believe me when I tell you this: you are _not_ Hawkmoth.”

I could feel some heat on my exposed cheeks. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

My girlfriend smiled softly. “I know you better than you think, kitty,” she said. “From the moment you discovered who Hawkmoth was, I’ve watched the doubts and self-recrimination wash across your masked face. And that little bout of insomnia?”

“I am worried about my mother,” I said defensively.

“_And_ the nightmares,” she added. “Nightmares where you become the worst possible version of Chat Noir. Something, perhaps, akin to Hawkmoth.”

I looked up at the darkened night sky; it was cloudy once more, and the scent of snow was heavy in my feline nose. That I could even tell the difference between snow and rain now would normally have been a moment of epiphany, but instead I realized I had once more misjudged my girlfriend. Those had indeed been the darker parts of the tumbled-up dreams I’d been having – where I would be sitting by Hawkmoth’s side, like a pet cat, mindlessly doing his bidding – a zombie in black leather. It terrified me to my core.

“Yes,” I admitted grudgingly. 

Her deep blue eyes were full of compassion as she cupped a gloved hand around the side of my face. “You are _not_ Hawkmoth,” she repeated firmly. “There is nothing in your soul that would allow you to misuse the power you have been granted.”

“But with absolute power—”

“Without me, kitty, you’ll never have it.” She smiled again. “Ying and yang, remember? We each counterbalance the other. We can work together, but only within the limits we allow each other.”

I blinked. Now that she said it, I knew that was what had been in the back of my brain, rattling around for days now: a deep dread of worry that I was going to follow my father and become some sort of Darth Vader-esque character. Evil to the core. And why shouldn’t I worry? He’d come across a Miraculous and had apparently utterly corrupted its purpose; whatever sort of justification he’d needed, he’d made, a pact with his own person devil. The worst of it was I thought I could understand why.

That glass casket made a compelling case.

“How do I know I won’t become him?” I asked quietly, fear tinging my voice. “I want the same thing: rescue Mother.”

“Look into my eyes,” she said. “Tell me you are willing to throw everything you value away. Make me _believe_ you have no ethical or moral boundaries. Only then will I give serious consideration to you becoming Hawkmoth V2. For the Chat I know – and the _Adrien_ I love – is not capable of anything remotely close to that.”

I looked away again – or tried to, before a gentle gloved hand twisted me back. Locking eyes with hers, my vision blurred slightly. “How can I be sure?” I whispered, the emotions I’d been keeping in check for days finally getting the best of me. “Am I strong enough…?”

“Yes, you are,” Ladybug said firmly as she pulled my shaking body into hers. “And I’m here to make sure.”

* * *

Close to dawn I finally left Ladybug and returned to the mansion, tired but feeling more like Chat Noir than I had in days. Getting my feelings out into the open had been helpful, something Ladybug had definitely known when she’d decided to draw them out of me. I smiled as I landed on the fence outside my bedroom, the love in my heart for my partner threatening to burst out of its own accord. I was tempted to turn around and rejoin her on the rooftop opposite where she’d taken her position - I had a nominal reason, given she’d yet to tell me how she was breaking Adrien out of the mansion – but knew I needed to keep up appearances a bit longer and instead leapt once more to the open window of my bedroom.

Once again, I paused on the ledge. Something had triggered that vague sense of feline unease much as it had the prior evening when I’d discovered my phone was out of its dock, though this time around it was twisted to eleven on the dial. If I’d had fur, it would have been raised along the back of my neck. The off-colors of my night vision revealed my bedroom appeared to be as I had left it hours earlier, and yet the unease didn’t decline. I sniffed the air and picked up a fragrance that was familiar and yet not, which was odd in and of itself, given how extensive my scent catalogue had become. 

I continued to hesitate to enter the space proper, somehow intrinsically knowing it would be a bad idea. The scent shifted and moved; my feline ears flattened, and I had a hard time suppressing a dangerous growl, though I was still uncertain what was causing the seemingly irrational feline impulses. I tensed, battling a rising fight-or-flight instinct as I rescanned the space.

And then looked up.

And silently swore.

_No one ever looks up,_ I groaned internally.

Standing in the shadows of the mezzanine above my bed was Hawkmoth, hands gripping the railing tightly as he looked down to where (presumably) the remains of the smashed iPhone were. I sniffed again and realized the faint familiarity of the scent had to have been the traces of my Father prior to transforming; I knew now the new scent was Hawkmoth, and it incorporated some aspects of my Father in a way similar to Ladybug’s echo of Marinette. It was there, thinly recognizable if you knew what to sniff for.

_He’s recently transformed,_ I thought, considering my options as I coolly observed my nemesis from the window perch. _That’s why I can scent Father. It’s a dark evening, maybe he didn’t see me—_

“Chat Noir,” came that voice I had learned to loathe.

_So much for that, _I thought.

Staying in the window, I fixed him with my best Chat smile. “Fancy running into you here,” I said with panache. “Were you invited to the slumber party too?”

“Hardly,” he laughed without a trace of warmth. “Where have you taken Adrien Agreste?”

My model training came in handy as I tried not to react visibly. _Interesting. He’s not made the connection yet… can I use that to my advantage?_

I smiled wider. “He’s safe,” I answered, before deciding to poke the bear a bit. “Away from this horror story of a house and train wreck of a family.”

It had the desired effect. Hawkmoth nodded as he put a hand on the railing and leapt over it, landing easily on the main floor, getting uncomfortably close for my tastes. I stood my ground, though, tail twitching lightly as I heard him slide the pieces of my iPhone to one side with a foot. “This won’t stop me from finding him,” he said.

“No,” I agreed. “But it _will _make it more difficult.”

“You have no _right_\---” he started, voice rising as he took a step toward me, raising his cane in the process.

I was ready for that – in fact, I’d needed him to step just enough in one direction, which he had conveniently done. In a smooth motion, I snapped my baton apart and flung one piece at the panic button beside my bed. It hit with metallic _clank_ before rebounding past a somewhat shocked Hawkmoth to return to my paw. I managed to snatch it from the air just as I fell backwards, narrowly avoiding the slamming of the metallic panels as they dropped over the windows in response to my triggering of the alarm.

Twisting around as I fell, I deftly reassembled the baton then extended it to vault over the fence, vaguely hearing the muted _thumpa-thumpa_ as Hawkmoth tried to break through the impenetrable panels. He may have even howled in anger at being outplayed – which he had, for the moment. I hadn’t bought myself much time, but I was sure it would be enough for Ladybug and me to escape the scene.

As I rose to meet her, it occurred to me I had neatly solved the “make Adrien disappear” conundrum, and though I wasn’t _entirely_ certain she was going to appreciate my efforts, one thing was certain: I’d somehow managed to put Hawkmoth on defense. Gut feline intuition told me the winds of fate had begun to shift in our direction.

I prayed to the kwamis I was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _First off – _Seventy _chapters_?_ If you are still here, you are both a huge fan of _Miraculous_ and an amazingly loyal reader to continue to follow the adventures of my favorite duo for this long. Hopefully it’s been worth the ride. Or it took up the time during your coast-to-coast flight. Either way, I’m grateful you’re here as we continue this journey together..._


	71. A Plan Forms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Safe for the moment, Adrien starts to worry about Hawkmoth’s next move – and turns to Plagg for some historical advice. Marinette decides to take what she learns from the kwami and give it a unique Ladybug twist to help deal with the situation. _

Partial honesty seemed to be in order with Marinette’s parents. While I had obviously stayed with them as Chat once before, the stakes were much higher. Harboring a superhero on Hawkmoth’s hit list was bound to lead to complications -- especially for a small, family-owned Bakery. Still, Tom and Sabine took the news in stride and welcomed me once more with open arms and a promise that I could stay as long as I needed to.

As much as I appreciated that sentiment – it was a far cry from the cold life I enjoyed at the mansion – I worried terribly about their safety. Since finding Hawkmoth in my bedroom, I’d realized a defensive enemy was a dangerous one, and they didn’t come any deadlier than my father. Despite the comfortable bed and wonderful meal I’d been served, I tossed and turned and ultimately threw off the covers to sit at the edge of the bed. Plagg had been curled up on my pillow, and cracked open an eye at my movement.

“He’s gonna make a move,” I murmured as I stood and started to pace the small guest room. “I feel like I should be able to anticipate what it would be.”

Plagg yawned, stretched in a very cat-like manner, and then floated up beside me, matching my movements criss-crossing the space. “We’re not going to get any sleep while you fuss over this, are we?”

“Probably not,” I smiled grimly. 

He sighed as we turned again. “Well, put yourself into his shoes then.”

I bristled slightly. “I have no desire to do that,” I snapped, still a bit sensitive on that point.

My kwami rolled his eyes. “Figuratively speaking. You’re an evil supervillain with a master plan and just got outplayed by a teenager who was flying by the seat of his costume.”

_That_ made me smile. “It felt good, too,” I admitted.

Plagg smiled. “I’m sure it did.”

“I’d be angry,” I said after a moment of thought. “Seriously pissed, even, given that my son was being held hostage by my enemy.”

Plagg nodded.

“This would royally screw with my evil plan, wouldn’t it?”

He shrugged. “It depends. We don’t know what part Adrien was to play in his scheme.”

“I’m not sure I _want_ to know,” I replied as I paused at the window. Pushing it open, I felt the rush of cold winter air move into the room as I climbed onto the sill and perched. It wasn’t as easy to do as a civilian, but I managed. “Maybe Adrien doesn’t have a part, per se,” I mused. “Maybe he’s just a cog in the overall puzzle. Assuming that his endgame is similar to ours.”

“Getting your mother back?” Plagg nodded. “That’s my thought too.”

I looked at Plagg. “You obviously heard what Master Fu recommended,” I frowned. “Can it be done?”

His tiny feline eyes shifted away from mine and he folded his little paws. “Do you want the company line? Or the truth?”

“Is there a difference?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“Give it to me straight,” I urged.

He sighed. “I’ve been around a while, kid,” he said as he started his own version of pacing by floating back and forth in front of me. “Several millennia ago, Tikki and I had holders in Thebes.”

“Thebes? As in Egypt?” I asked, arching that eyebrow higher. I did some mental math. “We’re talking B.C. Egypt?”

Plagg nodded. “Our holders were part of the priesthood for whatever major god was in vogue at the time.” Plagg closed his eyes and I could’ve sworn he shuddered. “Nobles who wanted to avoid the afterlife – and could afford an appropriate tribute to the temple – were allowed to undergo a revitalization ritual performed by the high priest and priestess.”

My jaw dropped. “They used the merging—“

“Yeah,” Plagg replied. “It wasn’t our finest moment, but when you are bound to a holder with questionable virtues, you do what you have to do.” His tiny eyes looked pained. “The cost involved is high,” he said softly, “even if you think you are using it for good.” He looked away. “I can still hear the screams of the slaves that were sacrificed so entitled nobles could avoid Anubis for another decade.”

The horror of what my tiny god-friend was telling me took a full minute to settle in. Aghast, I plucked him from the air and held him in a hug against my chest. “My god,” I breathed, noting he didn’t squirm like he used to do. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago now,” he said softly.

Releasing him, I asked: “How did you get away?”

He shrugged with a half grin. “Gods came and went with alarming frequency in Thebes,” he replied, the smile turning into a smirk. “And our particular temple may or may not have experienced an unusual earthquake. One that was viewed as retaliation by other, more jealous gods that were suddenly viewed as being more powerful.”

I smiled slightly. “They weren’t wrong,” I observed. “At least, about the power part.”

“Yep. The high priests decided they needed to part ways with the Miraculous Box and buried us out in the Valley of The Kings.”

“Wait – what? They had the _entire box?!_”

He nodded. “Fortunately they had no idea how to activate the rest of the kwamis, so there was that.”

“How did they get the box? I mean, how did you wind up in Egypt?”

“Actually,” he said with a frown, “I’m not entirely sure. We’d been put back into the box by our last holder somewhere in Greece. I forget where exactly. Time doesn’t have much meaning inside the box, so Tikki and I were a bit surprised to discover it had been a couple of hundred years when the temple activated us.”

“Greece? Egypt?” I looked sideways at my kwami. “You have so many stories you could have been telling me!”

Plagg smiled slightly. “I’m a kwami, not a historian,” he said. “But in this case, I’ll make an exception. I’ve seen more than my fare share of villains like Hawkmoth. I think I might know what his next move will be.”

“I’ll take whatever advice you’ll give,” I replied before adding, “as long as you promise to tell me about what it was like back then.”

“Maybe,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “if you provide enough camembert.”

“Oh, I can _totally_ make that happen.” I slipped out of the window. “Should we get Marinette?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Okay,” I smiled. 

I quickly transformed and slid the window open further, then used my claws to pull myself up to the rooftop patio that truly was already my second home. Flipping over the railing, I scampered quickly to the skylight in the semi-darkness of the early morning and then used my claws to tap against the glass. Despite being her boyfriend, I still thought it was a bit too forward to simply drop into her bedroom unannounced.

Sitting back on my haunches, I didn’t have long to wait before the portal opened and a sleepy Marinette poked her head through, Tikki over her shoulder, both looking concerned. “Chat?”

“Got a minute?” I smiled, tail curling into a question mark. “Plagg has some advice for us.”

That woke her up. “Okay,” she said as she beckoned me in out of the cold.

I hopped through the skylight behind her and slid down the ladder, landing in my crouch on the floor. “Plagg – claws in,” I breathed, and a moment later I was sitting cross-legged across from Marinette, our two kwamis floating between us.

Before I had a chance to say anything, Tikki spoke up. “Sydney?” she asked Plagg.

“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s the most similar, don’t you think?”

“I do,” she said, eyes darting to me. “Uncomfortably so, actually.”

“My thoughts too.”

“Uh, guys,” I interjected. “You’re _really_ making me nervous now.”

“With reason,” Tikki sighed, then held her little hands out to Plagg. “Go ahead.”

Plagg looked to us. “I’ll cut to the chase,” he started. “We had a very similar Hawkmoth-type character. He was bad news, way worse in some ways than what your father has done so far.”

“Not making me feel better,” I said.

“Not supposed to be,” Plagg continued. “Anyway, my holder at the time pulled the same stunt as you and fell for someone, but never revealed his true identity to her. _That_ Hawkmoth found out about the relationship and tried to use it as… leverage… to get Chat to turn in his Miraculous.”

“Leverage?” I asked, a small knot of dread forming in my stomach. “He kidnapped her, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Plagg nodded.

“Did it work?” I asked, eyes darting to Marinette. “And how much danger is Marinette in?”

“To a point,” Tikki answered. “That Chat became an extension of Hawkmoth, doing his bidding in the name of trying to save his beloved.” She looked to Marinette. “He never stopped searching for a way to break the bonds, though, and ultimately was able to finally turn the tables, freeing the love of his life.”

“Where was Ladybug?”

“On another continent,” Tikki sighed. “There was a period when I was separated from Plagg. The monks thought at one point it would be safer that way.”

“Chat did it on his own?”

“Yes,” Plagg said and there was a trace of pride in his voice. “The kid was resourceful. He tricked HM into believing he’d been broken, only to wait for the proper time to pounce. Which he did.”

I looked to Marinette. “I see the similarity,” I said. “With Adrien missing, Father has to be going nuts.”

“He did last Christmas,” Marinette reminded me. “Gabriel turned Paris upside down to locate you the night you took off.”

“So he did,” I nodded. “The question is whether he knows about the Chat-Marinette relationship.”

“How can he not?” Marinette replied. “Alya posted a whole series of entries on the Ladyblog about the two of us before she found out who you were.”

I groaned, remembering the so-called MariChat hashtag she’d started. Even today it still trended. “Well, if he does, Hawkmoth is bound to make a play for you, Marinette. That’s his most likely move.”

“To get Chat in a more cooperative mood,” she nodded. “Yeah, I could see that,” she added thoughtfully.

“I don’t know,” I said skeptically. “That breakfast we had with Father, though, made it clear that _Adrien_ was in love with---” I choked, and felt the color draining out of my face. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said. “If he stews too long, he’s gonna make a connection between your two personalities.”

“Oh… _shit_,” I said with emphasis.

“Maybe not,” Marinette said, the wheels clearly turning. “Adrien, this could be the exact opening we need!”

“I don’t follow,” I said, shaking my head. “Putting you into harm’s way doesn’t sound like any sort of angle I want to play."

“No, it is,” she said, a thread of excitement in her voice. “Let’s assume HM makes that play – he comes after Marinette in an attempt to make Chat more amenable to suggestion.”

“I---”

“Hear me out,” she said, her firm Ladybug tone silencing my objection. “What if we allow him to use me as collateral? He’ll probably take me back to the mansion, and will stash me someplace so well protected that even your Cataclysm wouldn’t be able to get to me.” Mari paused. “Maybe even to his secret lair.”

“I don’t want you anywhere _close_ to that!” I cried out.

“I need to be _exactly_ there,” she replied. “While you ‘negotiate’ with Hawkmoth to return Adrien in exchange for me, I’ll be getting a good reconnoiter of what we’ll face later. But if we plan a bit more and have some extra help from a friend or two, we just might be able to relieve him of his Miraculous when ‘Adrien’ is returned.”

I started to object again, then paused. “Did I hear quotes around my name?”

“You did,” she smiled. 

I sighed. “You totally know how to pique a cat’s curiosity.”

“It’s a gift,” she laughed.

“All right,” I said. “I’m not convinced but tell me a bit more about how you plan on putting yourself into the line of fire.”

“I’m still plotting it out,” she said thoughtfully. “The easy part is letting Hawkmoth get to me. The hard part is keeping a certain protective kitty out of sight long enough to let it happen.”

“No kidding,” I chuckled. “This is going to be very hard on me.”

“I know,” she said, putting a hand on my arm. “But we are going to do this together. We have a few tricks up our sleeve, anyway.”

“You mean like sneaking Ladybug into the heart of enemy territory?”

“Exactly. Not to mention some tech wizardry.” She looked at the lightening sky. “I’ll need to reach out to Max for what I want, and you’ll need to see if our New York friend is available for another stint.”

I saw the faraway look she got when a Lucky Charm was coming together and started to feel a bit more confident that whatever she was cooking up might actually be doable. “I’ll call once I know it’s daylight over there.” I paused. “This only potentially solves part of the problem, Milady.”

Marinette’s eyes snapped back to me. “Yes,” she nodded. “But sliding your father out of the picture will give us more time and space to focus on saving your mom. I like our odds doing it this way versus trying to sneak into the mausoleum and work our magic under the fear of discovery.”

“Okay,” I said as the first rays of sun started to appear through the window of her bedroom. I closed my eyes and turned into them, for a moment forgetting I wasn’t transformed and therefore unable to truly appreciate them.

For the first time, I found myself thinking we really _did_ have a chance this time. It would be dangerous, and regardless of what Marinette expected, _this_ black cat was still planning on keeping a feline eye on her once she stepped into harm’s way. How I’d pull that off while simultaneously tricking Hawkmoth as to my true intentions would require all my skills – model, Miraculous, you name it.

And... and maybe one last ingredient.

Almost as if she heard my thoughts, Marinette said quietly, “All we need is a bit of luck. And I am full up with it.”

I turned back to her and pulled my girlfriend into a hug. “That you are,” I said into her hair. “That you are.”


	72. Two Minute Drill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat and Ladybug find they are on the clock when Hawkmoth tries to regain the upper hand in his desire to keep Adrien safe._

Fortunately for my high-strung feline nerves, we didn’t have to wait long for Hawkmoth to make his move.

In what was starting to feel like a reunion of old friends, I was camped out on a rooftop across from the Bakery, feline ears and masked eyes just above the brick façade keeping watch over my Princess. Spider-Man had arrived not more than an hour earlier and was mirroring my movements a few meters from me. Marinette was quite visibly puttering around on the rooftop patio and rather pointedly not looking out across the Parisian skyline. That brought a smile to my masked face, for besides the two of us, Carapace and Rena were diagonally across from our location, helping to form a box of protection around the Bakery.

For now, we had only called in members who were aware of my dual identity. Pegasus had obviously helped us get Spidey in from New York, but Ladybug had allowed him to return to our hidden laboratory to continue his work on cracking the tech behind the glass casket. He’d mentioned in passing that he thought he finally understood the power situation. Thinking of Pegasus and his wizardry brought a smile to my masked visage; I smiled wider at the little surprise he’d given me that was carefully stowed away in my baton.

Marinette had begun to water her plants when motion off to the west caught my feline eyes. Ears immediately twitched in that direction as I caught the petite blue form of Mayura running across the rooftops, slightly bent at the waist as she zig-zagged across the skyline toward the Bakery. I wasn’t entirely surprised Hawkmoth had sent her instead of an akumatized civilian; Mayura was definitely more dependable than a random victim with their own agenda, but it also ramped up the danger to Marinette exponentially.

Before I could say anything across our collective earwigs, though, my feline ears picked up the whistle of a projectile and I dove sideways, rolling up into a crouch. My eye darted to the somewhat familiar arrow that had lodged itself into the brick, then back up into the air where Dark Cupid was hovering. I had a fraction of a second to register the bow being directed toward me again; I managed to get my baton around in time to bat several arrows away as I yelled over to Spidey: “Akuma! Regroup!”

He was initially out of my line of sight as I heard his webbing sing out in an attempt to snatch the bow away from Cupid; I watched with some amazement as my akumatized classmate simply yanked on the glistening cable and hurled a very surprised Spider-Man up and into the blue sky. As Cupid turned back toward me, I leapt up and over the edge of the building, landing on a tiny ledge just below the roofline. 

“Scatter! Scatter! _Regroup_!” I called out over the comms, knowing immediately we were going to be outgunned.

Part of me wasn’t terribly surprised that Hawkmoth had guessed we would be protecting Marinette; as I scrabbled my way along the ledge, zagging to avoid the fusillade of arrows sent in my direction, I was even less surprised at his reakumatization of my friend. Hawkmoth seemed to have a penchant for replaying his greatest hits when it came to victims, and Cupid had been one of the more effective. Hell, I couldn’t remember most of what happened the first time we’d fought him; after throwing my body in front of Ladybug, I’d come back to my senses to see her pulling away from a kiss I didn’t know I was getting.

Sliding around a downspout, I worried what other akumas he’d put back on the payroll. Ladybug would be, by necessity, MIA, so my options were going to be pretty limited if I had to fight more than one. Landing on my boots, I dashed across the empty park toward the Bakery, rolling, leaping and otherwise dodging a never-ending barrage of those dangerous arrows from Cupid. Keeping distance from the akuma forced me away from the Bakery, though, which I knew had been the goal all along; I ducked behind a horse in the carousel to catch my breath and noted with some concern the sky was beginning to darken. Since it was unlikely the sunny Sunday forecast had changed, I thought perhaps I’d begun to get my answer. 

“I'm pinned down at the park,” I said over my earwig before having to dive beneath another horse to avoid another attack; as Cupid fluttered just above the ground, I glanced at the ever darkening sky above him. “Did we agree to just add a number to old akumas when they reappear?” I asked.

“Even if we didn’t, I’m down with that,” Carapace said. He sounded winded. “Stormy Number Two is currently tossing cars at Rena; she’s blasted us back with a gust of that hurricane force wind. Neither of us can get close to the Bakery.”

I tried to set aside the very real issue of Hawkmoth being able to call upon multiple akumas when needed. Each time he’d done that previously, it had been amazingly difficult to defeat both them and prevent whatever his ultimate plan had been at the time. I felt again how keenly I missed Ladybug. 

“I’m not—”

I leapt sideways, amazed that Cupid had been able to thread an arrow between the horses. Vaulting out of the carousel, I stayed on all fours and dashed across the green of the park, dodging arrows repeatedly once more before getting enough space to baton my way up into the sky. That proved to be a mistake, for a cloud of pigeons enveloped me a fraction of a second before I sneezed; I tried to bat them away, first with the baton, then with a flurry of sharp claws, but it was to no avail. 

“I’m caught,” I said over comms before sneezing again. “I appear to be a guest of Mister Pigeon.”

“Not much better over here,” Rena said, her voice echoing. “Stormy got in a lucky shot, and Carapace and I are on ice. Literally.”

“Damn,” I said as I sneezed yet again while feeling the pigeons shift direction. “Do you still have eyes on the Bakery?”

“No,” Carapace said over sounds of him whacking something with his shield.

“Yes,” came Spider-Man’s welcome voice. “Sorry guys,” he apologized. “You wouldn’t believe how far that deranged cupid flung me.”

“Welcome back,” I laughed ruefully. “Our plan is going swimmingly. Is Marinette---”

“I’m following her now,” Spidey said. “Mayura is carrying her. It looks like she’s unconscious.”

I closed my masked eyes. “Hawkmoth’s distraction worked, then. He’s got Mari.”

“Wasn’t that part of the plan?” Spidey asked.

“_That_ was. The rest of the team getting caught, not so much.” 

“Hey! I’m still footloose and fancy free!” Spider-Man teased.

“Small favors.” The pigeons shift again around me, and suddenly I started to smile. “On the other hand, maybe this will work to our advantage.”

“I don’t follow,” Carapace said, sounding irritated. “This damn ice won’t crack.”

“Hawkmoth needs to deliver his ultimatum to Chat. I bet he’s bringing me to the mansion.”

“Hang on,” Spidey said. “You’re not too far behind me,” he said after long pause. “Assuming you’re that cloud of feathers heading my way.”

“That’s me,” I confirmed, swiping another angry set of claws at my winged captors. They seemed unimpressed with me and continued on their way. “Rena, can you guys hold out for a bit?”

“If this is like last time, yeah,” she said, though I could hear her teeth rattling. “It’s just going to get a bit chilly.”

“I’ll keep her warm,” Carapace laughed. “Don’t worry about us.”

“I will anyway. Spidey, keep Marinette in your line of sight, but stay safe,” I said as I felt the pigeons begin to slow. “I think we’re about to get to the main event.”

“Looks like your destination is the building across from the mansion,” Spidey said. “Mayura took Marinette through the front door, if that helps.”

“A little,” I said as we descended.

Much as my last time with Mister Pigeon, the flock thinned enough to gracefully drop me on the rooftop before flying away; this time, however, I didn’t find the akumatized Monsieur Ramier waiting for me. Instead, Hawkmoth was about fifteen meters away, leaning on that dangerous cane of his.

“I assume you called this meeting,” I said with no little amount of snark. Stepping a meter closer, I added: “What? Was something wrong with sending up the Chat signal?”

“We need to talk,” Hawkmoth said with that evil grin I never liked seeing. It always meant he had something up his sleeve, and as thoroughly as we had planned, it made me worried we were about to get a curveball.

“It must be pretty important for you to have a heart-to-heart with me in person.”

“My son,” he continued without preamble. “Bring him to me.”

I put a claw tip to my chin. “Let me think about that for a moment,” I said looking to the sky. “Uh, no.”

That extra sense I had as Chat kicked in and I found myself tensing slightly as Hawkmoth nodded sadly. “I was afraid that would be your answer,” he said coldly. “So it’s my turn to take from you something you value.”

Suddenly swirling his cane, I dropped to a pounce-crouch, baton spun up to shield mode, only to see a projection forming in thin air. Marinette was laying on the ground in a room rimmed by ribbed aluminum struts in an off green color. The space seemed oddly familiar. “Marinette,” I growled. “What have you done with her? If you so much as harm her---”

“You’ll what?” he laughed. “Claw me? Cataclysm me? What would that gain you? Only I know _where_ Marinette is. Take me out and you lose her, too.”

“She has _nothing_ to do with this,” I said angrily. “This is between you, me and the rest of Team Miraculous.”

“Yes…” he smiled cruelly again. “And where _is_ Ladybug?” he wondered aloud. “She seems to have left you to fend for yourself.”

“We all have to have an ace up our sleeve,” I replied, my eyes narrowing. “Let Marinette go.”

“Return Adrien to me.”

“If you think I am going to _willingly_ allow him to live under the same roof as you, you’ve got another think coming, Hawky. Look,” I said, standing again but still staying partially tensed for attack, “we can be civil about this. Just hand over your Miraculous and I have a feline we can then be friends.”

Mocking my earlier mocking of him, he put a glove hand to his chin. “How about… no,” he said.

“Then we have a bit of a stalemate.”

“Clearly you don’t play much chess, alley cat.” 

Tapping something on his cane, my masked eyes widened as I saw a thick, viscous white liquid begin to flood the room Marinette was in. I realized then why the space seemed so familiar and turned to Hawkmoth, horror in my voice. “She’ll drown!” I cried. 

“She doesn’t have to,” he said casually like we were discussing the weather.

My eyes flicked back to the projection. Marinette was groggily pushing herself up; it was clear she, too, was aware of what was happening and moved quickly to the ribbed interior, hunting for an exit much as we had months ago when we’d fallen into Dark Owl’s trap. Then as now I was certain the only exit was above her, unreachable before she was submerged in the whipping cream.

“You have two minutes, Chat Noir. Two minutes to choose between your _girlfriend_,” he said, mocking the word slightly, “and returning my son.” 

“You… you _monster_!” I cried, and deep in my heart I felt it. For while we had assumed Marinette would be in harm’s way, this was one move we had not counted on Hawkmoth making. His apparently cavalier trade-one-life-for-another attitude reached new depths of depravity I had no idea were there. My feline eyes moved frantically between him and the rising white tide.

He smiled again, and made a show of hovering his finger over the button on his cane. “I can end this now with one command. But it’s up to you whether she lives or dies. Ninety seconds.”

I dropped to my knees. “Don’t do this, Hawkmoth,” I pleaded, holding out a paw to him. “Don’t take this a step too far. Don’t cross over that line!”

“Seventy-five seconds.”

I glanced back and saw the white foamy liquid was at her waist. Even if she _could_ transform, it was unlikely Ladybug would be able to get out; Dark Owl’s trap had nearly done us in last time had she not been able to recharge our kwamis. And it had my Cataclysm that had saved us. “Let her go!”

“Sixty seconds. No time to dither, cat. Make a call. Girlfriend or Adrien.”

Horrified, I saw the liquid up to her shoulders as Marinette pounded on the walls. There was no sound on the projection, but I could see she was screaming… and it wasn’t much of an act at that point. But I also need him to think I was being sincere, so as much as it killed me to watch the liquid rise ever higher, I waited until it was just to her chin before throwing myself in front of him.

“Okay! Okay, damn you,” I cried, hanging my head in defeat. “I’ll bring you Adrien,” I continued quietly, looking up through my bangs at my father and hoping he’d buy the act. “Please… just let her go!”

Hawkmoth pressed a button and the image went away. “Get him. Now.”

“Wait just a damn minute,” I said looking to the space that had held the projection. “I need to know she’s safe!”

“Then you had better hurry,” he said as laughed cruelly. “Bring him to the mansion,” he continued as he started to run toward the edge of the space. “I’ll be waiting,” he cackled as he leapt over the edge and sailed away.

I took a moment to gather myself, for not all of my performance had been a lie. As I stood, my earwig crackled to life. “What a cruel bas—”

“Yes,” I replied to Spidey. “Hang tight,” I added as I vaulted over the edge myself and ran across the next rooftop, putting up the appearance of heading somewhere to get Adrien. “Cap? Rena?”

“Thawed out,” Rena said. “Stormy and Cupid are MIA. I assume Hawkmoth recalled them once you gave him what he wanted.”

“Oh, I’ve not done that quite yet,” I said with emphasis.

“Down, kitty,” came an unexpected voice.

“Milady?” I cried out as I skidded to a halt. “Your comm is working?”

“I don’t how long I’ve got,” Marinette said. “I am alone for the moment and, according to this neat gizmo from Pegasus, unmonitored.”

“Are you okay?”

“Aside from swearing off dairy products for the rest of my life, for now, yes. They’ve moved me to a new space, one with a massive window and surprisingly good views of the Eiffel Tower. I think this is where Hawkmoth launches his butterflies. I’m starting to snoop.”

“Thank the kwamis,” I breathed as I started to run again. “Be careful, Milady. I don’t trust Hawkmoth.”

“Me either,” she agreed. “Hurry back,” she added before clicking off.

“Rena, I’m on my way to our rendezvous. Cap, find Spidey and get into position. We’re about to start phase two.”

Not long afterward, I rounded the corner of the massive gate to our mansion as Adrien, flanked by Carapace on one side and Chat Noir on the other. We stopped just below the archway and waited until the doors to the mansion opened, revealing Nathalie and her omnipresent tablet.

“Where’s Marinette?” I asked.

“Safe,” Nathalie replied.

To her credit, Rena managed to make faux Chat look angry, but It was Carapace who continued. “Hawkmoth promised to release her if we returned Adrien.”

“He’ll be hanging on to her for a bit longer,” Nathalie said coolly. “Don’t go far, Chat Noir. He’ll have further use for your skills shortly.” 

“That wasn’t—” Carapace said, taking an angry step forward.

“Cap,” I said, putting a hand to his costumed arm. “Stay close.”

He nodded, barely able to keep his anger in check while I proceeded up the steps to a waiting Nathalie. I paused in front of her, my expression cold. “How can you work for him, knowing who he is?”

“You are too young to understand,” she said softly. “Your father is waiting for you in the atelier.”

I pushed past her into the atrium and moved over to the open doors of the atelier; entering, I found Hawkmoth staring at the painting of my mother. “Not even trying to hide any longer?” I asked.

“There’s no point now that you know,” he said. While he was transformed, the voice was slightly different, but now I was quite able to hear the aspects that were my father within it. “I don’t know how you and Chat Noir are connected. I’d like you to tell me.”

“Why?”

“Make me understand why you put your faith in someone who has apparently stolen your girlfriend,” he said. “Wars have been started over that kind of thing, yet you seem to still associate with him.”

_Interesting,_ I thought. _Willful blindness? I can use this._ “Marinette is my friend, too, even if her heart belongs to someone else,” I said carefully. 

“He can’t be much of a friend, either, since he’s intentionally put you into danger,” he said as he turned. “Repeatedly.”

“He’s _saved_ me. Multiple times.” I waited a beat. “From _you_.”

Hawkmoth reeled back as if I’d smacked him. It took a moment for him to regain his composure. “Well. I see we will have to work on that a bit as we move forward. Your view of reality is a bit distorted.”

“My--! Are you kidding? I’ve seen what you’ve been doing to Paris! For no reason at all!” I added, hoping to score the goal.

Something flickered in his eyes and faster than was humanly possible Hawkmoth was by my side, and took me by the arm. “There are plenty of reasons,” he said as he propelled me to the spot where I knew the hidden elevator was. “One in particular even _you_ will understand.”

“Take your hands off---”

The slap was so unexpected that I was stunned for a moment, long enough for him to ensure I was in the right spot before we started to descend. My face stung, and tears pricked at my eyes, for he’d never been physical with me before. At least, not _Adrien_.

He’d thrown Chat Noir around quite a bit.

The elevator descended into the mausoleum through the long, clear tube; even before it had slowed to a stop, he was pushing me through the doors and down the aisle, the lights coming on as we approached the glass casket. Standing at the base of the steps, he pointed to Mother. “This! _This_ is why I am doing what I am doing!”

It wasn’t hard for me to act awed, for even though it was my second time in the space, the effect was still the same. Wrestling out of his grasp, I took first one, then another step, pausing on the highest one. “Mother?”

“Yes,” he said. Turning away from me for a moment, he started to explain. “She was injured using---”

Villains always monologued. That seemed to be a constant in our world, and I used his mistake to dart down the steps at warp speed and pound down the aisle. As he started to turn and call after me, I dove into the thick underbrush of the bushes housing the cocoons of the butterflies he favored. Branches tore at my shirt, and I could feel the scratches on my palms as I tried to swim through the dense jungle. 

Judging I was well hidden for the moment, I took a deep breath, and pulled the innocent looking USB drive Pegasus had given Chat earlier. Turning it, I found the button, smiled, and pressed it.

No sound issued, but immediately the space was plunged into darkness, the electromagnetic pulse doing its worst to the systems around us and, hopefully, throughout the mansion above. I smiled grimly as the weak emergency lights came on, casting the space in a dark blue haze. Peering around the branches, I could see he was still standing by the casket, but he’d flipped the top of his cane open and was speaking to someone.

“—mains?” he asked.

Nathalie’s voice filtered back to me. “Everything is dead. I’ll have to go to the Tower to see if the computer systems are capable of being restarted.”

Our guess had been that if the main power was cut, the casket would have a limited backup; hearing the computers might have a role to play gave me pause. I watched as Hawkmoth literally dashed to a ladder bolted to the wall and started to haul himself up, all the while issuing rapid-fire commands to Nathalie. “I’m on my way, but be careful! The systems are---”

“Remember who created them.”

“Regardless, the girl will be underfoot. You may need to keep her… muted… until we can bring the systems back up.”

“Understood. And Adrien?”

“He seems to be in shock,” was the reply, making me cringe that he thought so little of my mental fortitude. “He’ll be safe down here.”

While it appeared we were right about the backups, given how quickly Hawkmoth pulled himself on the catwalk I’d been on a few days earlier and disappeared through the door to the basement above gave me the impression it might be more limited than we’d anticipated.

I hoped furvently we had longer than the two minutes he’d given me earlier to save Mother.

As soon as he closed the trapdoor for the basement above us, I transformed and got back on the earwig. “We’re defelinely on the clock now, people,” I said. “Let’s make it count.”


	73. Not So Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat and Marinette work to stop Hawkmoth once and trying to save Adrien's mother in the process. Their success hinges on everything going according to plan…_

Bursting from the underbrush in a cloud of greenery and white butterflies, I took a quick glance at the casket before using the baton to quickly rise to the catwalk. Crouched on the metalwork, I waited until the footsteps above me faded before trying to open the sliding door. With the power out, it appeared Hawkmoth had popped open a manual activation box to unlatch the portal; in his hurry, he’d not completely closed it, which allowed me to get a paw between it and the jamb. Carefully, I slid it back into the pocket.

Slowly, I pulled my masked face slightly above the level of the floor, eyes and ears attuned to any movement. 

The sound of rapidly receding footsteps perplexed me, for they were moving _away_ from the doorway I knew led to the space Spidey and I had found earlier during our lockdown exploration. As thoroughly as we’d searched the pattern vault, we’d not found anything close to another exit save for the trapdoor to the mausoleum. Slipping over the edge and pressing myself to the floor, I stealthily slunk beneath the rows of hanging House of Gabriel originals in the direction of the footsteps; tracking my prey, I soundlessly worked my way to a far corner of the pattern vault and paused, using the inherent darkness of the emergency lighting and my model ability to remain motionless and, with luck, undetected.

We had no idea what sorts of sensory enhancements Hawkmoth gained when transformed, making it tough for us to plan this part of our scheme; other than his ability to apparently pick up strong emotion, Ladybug and I had been at a loss to know what butterfly-like traits were in play. Internet research had only taken us so far, and even Master Fu had been spectacularly unhelpful other than to sagely warn us of the unexpected. The best bet had seemed for me to keep a level head and remain silent.

Masked nose a centimeter from the concrete, my green feline eyes watched as Hawkmoth tapped a panel on the otherwise unremarkable wall; a section pulled in and then slid sideways a bit. Like the trapdoor, it could only do so much with the power out, forcing Hawkmoth to shove it open with a shoulder. Surging into the hidden pocket, he disappeared into the space beyond, footsteps fading once more.

As the door began to slide shut – it must have been on a spring of some kind – I vaulted from my space nearly silently and slipped through the very edge of the opening, my tail barely clearing before it clicked locked behind me. Pressing my paws to it, then around it, I couldn’t locate anything on the interior that would allow it to be re-opened other than another of those RFID reader pads. Seeing as though I was fresh out of tech – not to mention the power being off – I realized just how committed I was now to my course of action. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, given the value of the items in the vault.

Turning once more, I was faced with commercial-grade metallic steps winding upward in a tight spiral; in the darkness, my night vision could tell they rose high into the mansion, higher, perhaps, than one would expect from the exterior. Smiling slightly, it occurred to me that if father had spent all that money on a fancy elevator from the atelier, he’d likely put in an emergency staircase as well. Staying low and on all fours, I tracked him upwards, thinking as I went how similar this more modern secret passage was to the servant hallways we’d inadvertently stumbled upon. Rising slowly, but keeping pace with the increasingly panicked sounded footfalls above me – those batteries must not have much time at all – I came to a small landing with a door; standing, I saw a normal looking handle and gently pulled at it. 

The door slid open a fraction and I saw I was at the rear of the atelier, just next to the massive painting of my mother. Nodding at the confirmation, I slid the door shut, amazed at how well hidden it had to have been for it to escape observation. Dropping back to all fours, I crept upwards again, increasing my pace slightly to make up some distance. Up, up, and higher up the stairs went, the circular climb nearly dizzying as I rose. Having grown up in the mansion, I seriously wondered how I could have missed some sort of tower as part of the structure; either through magic or other sleight of hand, Father had managed to keep it hidden from everyone.

At the sudden cessation of steps above I froze, one paw in the air. Sniffing, I could sense a change in the quality of the air as if a door had been opened; this was the trickiest part of our plan, for if Hawkmoth had truly gone to his secret lair, presumably Marinette – and, possibly, Nathalie – would be waiting there. Four of us in tight quarters tilted everything in their favor, especially since they had home field advantage; unless, of course, one of the four was a planner and another, a wily black cat.

Sliding out my baton, I quietly cracked it open and tapped out a text message.

** _Chat:_ ** _ Now. If you have a fix._

** _Rena: _ ** _I do. P just arrived, hang on._

I slipped down a spiral or two and pressed back into the dark shadows; a moment later, the sizzle of Pegasus’s portal lit up the space for a moment and Rena appeared, dropping into a crouch beside me; Carapace was right behind her, rolling down a few steps to form a rear guard. As the glow faded, I put aside my concern that Hawkmoth might have seen it, for the earwig had started to chatter.

“---no reason to keep me,” we heard Marinette saying. “I don’t understand what’s happening. And what happened to the lights?”

“Your superhero friends think they’re being clever,” Hawkmoth replied, his voice just within range of the earwig’s pickup. It was faint, but I was sure I heard him opening a metallic panel of some kind.

“That looks technical,” Marinette observed, telling me we’d guessed correctly about where the master computer controls for the mansion were located. In a few moments, Hawkmoth would realize the electromagnetic pulse had fried everything.

Baton still open in my hand, I texted Spider-Man.

** _Chat: _ ** _Found servers. Get ready._

** _Spidey:_ ** _ Moving now._

“Where am I?” I heard Marinette ask.

“Safe, for the moment,” Hawkmoth replied, his voice distant and moving.

“That’s what your assistant said before she left me here to fend for myself,” Marinette replied.

I turned to Rena, who mirrored my frown. Marinette had just told us she was alone in the space with Hawkmoth, but having Nathalie MIA was a huge problem. I nodded nonetheless, and Rena slid her flute out and very, very quietly called on her superpower. Trixx seemed to be in on the seriousness of the situation, dispensing with the normal flash-and-glow associated with Rena calling up her Mirage; a moment later, Ladybug was crouched next to us.

I took a deep breath, for the timing on the next part was the one thing we’d not been able to nail down. Marinette had a role to play, but since we’d known we’d need to be in silent mode on the earwigs, a bit of creativity had been required to let her know we were in position. Ensuring the baton itself was on silent mode, I quickly speed-dialed the number Spider-Man had given me earlier, setting the final act in motion.

A jaunty tune issued from above for a moment, echoing down the stairwell before I killed the call; smiling, I speed-dialed a second time, letting it ring twice before hanging up.

“What’s that?” I heard Hawkmoth ask, his voice far too close to Marinette for my comfort.

“My phone,” Marinette said apologetically, and I heard her carefully unzipping her purse so she could protect the hidden presence of Tikki. “My parents must be worried sick--”

“Give me that!” Hawkmoth cried angrily. “I can’t believe Nathalie didn’t take this from you.”

“This?” Marinette said calmly. “She took a phone, but it wasn’t mine.”

“She--”

There was a loud popping noise and a sizzle of electricity; something like a strangled cry issued from above us, and I vaulted up the steps two at a time with Rena and my faux Ladybug on my heels; Cap remained in the stairwell, my ace in the hole if needed. The door to the secret lair was ajar, and I picked up some speed to burst through it, vaulting up into the air. Time slowed down for me, a handy feline ability when I was on the attack, and I quickly took in the scene.

Marinette was off to one side, and Hawkmoth was right in front of her; behind him, several metal panels of the wall had been removed, exposing what for all the world looked like a typical rack-mounted set of computer hardware. The stun weapon masquerading as a cell phone was still in Hawkmoth’s hand; his cane had dropped from the other and was slowly rolling away from him in the opposite direction. The slim phone-shaped object was a handy piece of tech that Spidey had borrowed from Stark Industries, but as I arced downward, I could already see Hawkmoth was shrugging off the worst effects of it. His wild eyes had turned in my direction, conveniently twisting his torso up and toward me. 

The Butterfly Miraculous caught a beam from an emergency light and sparkled slightly.

This was it.

This was the moment.

And I was only going to get one shot.

“Cataclysm!” I cried as I twisted into a dive. The power of destruction flowed into my outstretched paw; as I dropped, faux Ladybug ran to Marinette’s side, close enough that Hawkmoth appeared torn between trying to deal with her or avoiding me. He sluggishly twisted a bit more, muscles not quite responding properly yet, and his Miraculous gleamed in the weak light.

I hit him full force in the chest, one paw to the sternum, one to the brooch. The residual charge from the stun weapon travelled up my arms, sizzling despite my costume’s protection, but I gritted my teeth and let my momentum push the two of us to the ground. Backflipping off of him, I landed in a crouch facing his prone form, my muscles twitching in a combination of pent-up tension and residual electricity.

“Go!” I yelled, and Rena grabbed Marinette, dashing her down the emergency stairwell. For all intents and purposes, we’d successfully “rescued” Marinette; faux Ladybug remained by my side, keeping up the lie and therefore protecting my partner’s secret. 

My masked green eyes, though, were firmly on Hawkmoth.

As he struggled to sit up, I watched as the brooch turned to an ashen color, and then cracked in two, falling off his costume to bounce on the floor with a metallic _klink-klink_. Stunned for a moment, he watched as his transformation wave washed over him a final time, the purple wave releasing Nooroo. The tiny kwami looked a bit dazed, shook himself slightly, and then floated toward me.

"I’m sorry,” I said quietly to the tiny now-former god. “I didn’t see another option.”

“It’s probably for the best,” he said sadly.

“Can you make it to the Guardian?” I asked as my ring chirped a warning and the first pad winked out. 

“Yes,” the kwami replied. “I may not have my jewel but I’m still connected to the rest of my fellow kwami.”

“Then go,” I said, and watched as Nooroo went up to the massive ornamental window and disappeared. Turning my attention to the rather surprised, yet still superior-than-you expression of my father, I decided to remain in my pounce-crouch. “I expect you to turn yourself into the authorities,” I started, seeing out of the corner of my eye that faux Ladybug was nodding and crossing her arms. It was a nice touch from Rena, who’d gotten pretty good at her Mirage power.

“Why should I do that?” he asked rather haughtily. I could see he was still struggling to stand up.

Not trusting him, I vaulted over and grabbed the pieces of the brooch in a paw, then dropped them into the storage compartment inside my baton. “Because you want to protect your son,” I said, the irony of the statement not lost on me.

“I... _what_?”

Vaulting away, tail flapping as I did, I perched on the top of my slightly extended baton so I could literally look down on him. It was a new feeling. “Ladybug and I have no choice but to expose who you are – who you _were_ \--to Paris,” I said matter-of-factly, trying to keep my anger controlled. “In order for your son to be able to continue your life’s work – keep the brand going – you need to face up to what you have done, come clean to the world, and let them know he had no part in what you were doing.”

Something flickered on his face. “He didn’t,” father said.

“If you want to protect him and his future, you need to do this,” I said as I snapped open the baton and dialed the number for the authorities. “It’s the only way you get out of this.”

“My wife--”

“We’ll take it from here,” I said, wondering for a moment why Spider-Man had yet to appear. “We know a thing or two about Miraculous Jewels and quite a lot about electronics, as it turns out.”

What I’d seen earlier flared into a full-fledged emotion. “You know _nothing_,” he fairly snarled, and to my surprise, he managed to leap toward me, hands grasping angrily at the air as he flew up.

My feline reflexes allowed me to dart sideways, and I rolled out into a crouch facing the curved interior of the space; as I turned, there was a resounding _thud_, and I saw my father splayed out, face first, along the metal flooring. The circular disc of Carapace’s shield was lying a few meters away. Looking toward the door for the emergency stairwell, I saw a slightly smiling Carapace.

“Thanks for the assist,” I said as I leapt to my father’s prone form. Carefully, I pressed my non-ring paw to his neck and felt for a pulse – even dead to the world, I didn’t trust he wouldn’t somehow manage to rise up and try to wrestle my ring away from me. It was steadily beating, though far slower than my own heart which was only then starting to calm down.

_We did it,_ I finally allowed myself to think. 

_We took him out. _

_Holy crud._

As my ring chirped and another pad winked out, Carapace dropped to my side. “He needed to shut up,” he said.

Despite the situation, I smiled. “Well, now that means we have to carry him downstairs.”

“It was worth it,” he said. “Totally worth it.”

“Yeah, I guess it was,” I said as I looped one arm of my Father over a shoulder, and Carapace did the same, the two of us lifting with a mutual grunt. Father _was_ rather heavy, being an adult and all. Fortunately, our super-strength helped a bit. As we struggled to the door, faux Ladybug evaporated in a puff of magic, her task complete. 

It wasn’t easy navigating the stairs as a threesome, but we wound up down in the atelier with two pads to spare. Ladybug was waiting and quickly wrapped Father in several loops of her yo-yo, lashing him to his workstation in the center of the room. “I took the liberty of finishing your call to the station. Officer Raincomprix will be here in ten,” she said, eyes darting to my ring. “You, uh, might want to recharge before he gets here.”

I glanced at my ring and then to the once powerful Gabriel Agreste. “I don’t want to leave you alone with him,” I said.

“I’ve got you covered,” Carapace said. “Rena will be back in a moment as well. Go.”

I looked to Ladybug. “He’s out, and he’s no danger to us now. I can take a few verbal insults if he wakes,” she smiled. “Go.”

“All right,” I said, as I vaulted to the door. “This won’t take long.”

“We’ll be here.”

Flying out the door, I passed Rena on her way back in as I vaulted up the steps to my room; while it wasn’t strictly necessary for me to recharge Plagg there, it felt like the best option should Officer Roger appear sooner than we expected. That, and my feline curiosity was wondering where Spider-Man had gone off to; the plan had been for him to wait in my room until we neutralized Hawky and needed him for his part. It seemed unlike him to be distracted, but there were any number of attractive nuisances in my bedroom.

“Spidey, your gizmo---” I’d started to call out, but as I closed the door behind me my feline eyes caught the smashed windows to my bedroom. Glass was all over the floor, and absolutely nothing remained of the panels or the structure that had held them.

“Spidey?” I asked more tentatively, concern in my voice.

Ears pricked, and mindful that my ring was in it’s final throes, I carefully crept around the corner; the room had all the hallmarks of a battle having taken place, with my furniture tossed asunder (and in some cases just a heap of pieces); nearly all of my books from the shelves above had come out of the case, and the zip-line was hanging down, one end undone. Splotches of Spider-Man’s webbing were everywhere, making my room feel like a horror-show version of the Haunted Mansion. 

My masked eyes scanned the space, the urgency of the final beeps of my ring adding an intensity to the situation. 

The sound of running water was faint but persistent, and I vaulted over the disaster and into my bathroom, the sliding door of which were mysteriously absent. My masked eyes widened to see the faucets of the vanity had been cleanly sheared off, water spraying everywhere including the fractured mirror above the dual sinks. What was more worrisome, though, was the trail of crimson leading from the destroyed glass, down to the marble, and over to the giant hole where the window to the bathroom once had been. Stepping back, I sized up the shape that had been imposed on the mirror and felt my stomach heave with a combination of fear and worry.

As my ring stridently sounded the final warning, I pressed my back up against what was left of the wall, closed my masked eyes and waited as the transformation wave washed over me. A moment later, I could feel Plagg floating in front of me. “She’s got him,” I said, as I blinked my eyes open and tossed him a piece of Camembert from my shirt. “While we were taking on Father, somehow Mayura got to Spidey.”

Plagg gulped down the slice but remained in front of me. “We’ll find him, kid,” he said softly.

“We have to,” I said morosely. “Can you transform? We need to talk to Pegasus. And fast.”

“One more slice,” he said. “You look worried, kid. From what I've seen, he’s a pretty capable hero.”

“He might be hurt,” I replied as we both moved to what was left of my bedroom. I rooted around in the debris and came up with two slices, one I tossed to him; the other replenished my emergency supply. “But that’s not the only reason.”

“Now I’m worried,” Plagg said as he downed the second slice. “_Why_ am I worried?”

“Spider-Man had the replacement circuits for the mansion’s power system,” I said as I held out my ring. “We’re about to find out if Pegasus made two sets. If he didn’t, we have to hope we can find Spidey quickly - or that the batteries in that glass coffin last a whole lot longer than I think they do...”


	74. Gone to Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _With Spider-Man and his needed technology missing, Team Miraculous finds they are running out of both time and options to save Adrien’s mother._

We didn’t need to visit our temporary, hidden laboratory for the bad news: a quick call from Ladybug confirmed our worse fears. While Pegasus had been working on a second circuit, Spider-Man had the only completed, functional version. The message was doubly as bad, for based on the power usage data he and Spidey had been analyzing, Pegasus was pessimistic about how long the batteries would last.

“The power curve is enormous,” his said, voice sounding distant as we huddled on a roof not far from the mansion. “While I’ve not exactly figured out exactly what the casket does, my working theory is some form of a stasis field. Once it goes down...” Pegasus trailed off.

“Give me a ballpark number,” Ladybug said.

Pegasus frowned so deeply, it created a groove in his forehead. “Based on when Chat triggered the device,” he said slowly, “maybe sixty minutes. Seventy-five on the outside.”

“So not long, then,” I observed, and then leaning on my multilingual skills, found a particularly good epithet in Mandarin before continuing. “Do we have any sort of backup plan? Can we use Pegasus’ portal and just _move_ the casket someplace where we can plug it in?”

“Maybe,” Pegasus said thoughtfully. “Let me run some numbers. We need a very specific power supply--”

“Meaning there won’t be many places for us to take her,” Ladybug finished. “Then we’ll keep looking for Spidey. But work fast, Pegasus! We may need that option in our back pocket.”

“On it,” he said as his small image winked out from her screen.

Ladybug turned to the three of us. “For once, I am fresh out of ideas where to begin,” she said.

“Mayura is running scared,” Rena observed. “She had to have grabbed Spider-Man as some sort of leverage.”

“For what?” I asked, thinking of how, at that moment, Father was riding in the back of one of those unmarked police vans on his way to extended stay at one of Paris’s finer jails. Officer Roger wasn’t taking any chances. “Not to get us to release Hawkmoth?”

“No,” Carapace said thoughtfully. “But maybe to trade for her own freedom. It’s a classic move.”

I nodded slowly. “She would have no way of knowing he’s got the circuit, either,” I said. “If she did, I’m not sure she would have left the mansion.” Arms folded as they were, my claws were tapping against my arm as I thought. “Maybe we can use her devotion to Fat—Hawkmoth to our benefit.”

Ladybug was on the same page. “She had to have been helping him with your mother,” she replied. “Certainly she was in on the plan to get our Miraculous and try to save her. I’m just not sure how far that devotion will extend – whether we will be dealing with the logical Nathalie or a Mayura obsessed with seeking revenge for her partner in crime.”

“We’ll deal with that once we find her.” My feline eyes turned to the mansion; several windows glowed with interior light, making it look almost homey. “But _where _would she go…?”

The angle from the roof we were on gave a partial view to the destroyed wall of windows that had been my bedroom; I held out hope that whenever Ladybug called on her Miraculous Cure they would be repaired along with whatever other damage Mayura inflicted as we pursued her. I was a little sad to see the place I’d grown up unrecognizable, but some part of me also viewed it as physical reminder of what had changed. I’d not been the kid who’d been cooped up in that space for many, many months now; the Adrien that had existed then had grown – matured, even – into who I was at that moment.

Ladybug was right, I realized. I wasn’t my father – not even close. 

As I watched, a small shard that had miraculously remained suspended in a corner of one frame suddenly dropped to the ground, smashing with a tinkle that my feline ears picked up, despite the distance. It was, perhaps, not the last thing to drop out of my life that night, but it seemed a fitting coda to the destruction of my room, and the life that had been bound to it.

I started. _Drop?_ I thought. _Hang on..._

Turning to Ladybug, I asked urgently: “Who had the tracker?”

“Tracker? What tracker?”

“From our first plan!” I said excitedly as I started to run to the edge of the rooftop. “The tracker that Pegasus would have used to zero in on us so he could open the portal.”

Ladybug trotted next to me. “Uh, there were two – Peg had one--”

“And Spider-Man had the other!” I cried as I vaulted out over the street, hit the fence and sailed into my bedroom, landing in the middle of the debris field.

Carapace, Rena and Ladybug landed behind me. “What are you on about, dude?” Cap asked.

“Spidey knew he was in trouble,” I said as I started to shift through the debris. “And that we’d need to find him. He couldn’t risk leaving the circuit behind, but I’d be willing to bet he activated one of those tracking disks he built for us, and left his version of the base station here.”

“I hope you’re right,” Rena said.

“I am,” I said with determination. “Fan out – it's here.”

The four of us rapidly began hunting through the space for something that we’d never seen, shoving aside pieces of my life as we dug through the debris. I could feel the time trickling away from us as we frantically tore everything apart further, but some key feline sense told me I was on to something. That was reinforced when I slid what was left of my closet door open in the bathroom and picked up a faint _beep... beep... beep..._ from the far corner.

I froze, trying to triangulate the sound. It was faint – so faint even my superior feline hearing nearly missed it. Dropping to all fours, I crept around clumps of my clothing and began hunting; in the deep recesses of the space, under several boxes of sneakers, I located the source of the sound. It was a small oblong device with Spidey’s logo on it; turning it upside down, I could see a faint icon overlaid on a map of Paris. I smiled further when I saw the volume had been set to nearly zero.

Vaulting out into the bathroom, I cried: “Got it!”

Immediately, the other three abandoned their search and crowded around me. “Where?” Ladybug asked.

I groaned. “We should have guessed – it's her favorite hangout.” Holding it to her, I continued. “The sewers just off the Seine and beneath Trocadero. I’m a foolish kitty – I should have realized that right away.”

“There are hundreds of kilometers of tunnels beneath Paris,” Ladybug reminded me. “The few minutes we spent locating this saved us hours of searching.”

“Let’s go--” I said as I tried to leap for the open air, only to find myself yanked backwards by the tail.

Crashing to the floor, I flipped around to a crouch and snatched my tail out of Ladybug’s hand. “Seriously?” I mewled. “We’ve got to save him!”

“We need more help,” she said quickly. “This is going to require everyone,” she continued before adding very softly, “and they may need to know everything. Are you okay with that?”

As I stroked my now aching tail, I thought about that for a moment. Looking around the destroyed space one more time, I slowly nodded. “Yes,” I said, explicitly accepting the change in who I was now. “If it’s necessary, yes.”

Putting a gloved hand to my arm, she nodded. “You are stronger than you think,” she said quietly. 

“Only with you to support me,” I smiled slightly.

“It goes both ways,” she smiled back. “Come on, we need to make a side trip to Master Fu before we take down Mayura for the final time.”


	75. Plumage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A cornered animal is a dangerous one, more so when it’s a magical peacock. _

Contrary to the massive amount of planning we’d put into our incursion at the mansion, Ladybug and I were improvising on the fly to rescue Spider-Man and retrieve the (hopefully) still functional circuit. We were truly pressed for time – a quick look at my baton as we landed on the broad Trocadero plaza told me we had less than forty minutes on the batteries keeping my mother alive – so our quick visit to Master Fu had been merely enough to dispatch him out to our part-time members. I hated to put the century-plus old Guardian possibly in danger, but he was willing to do it, and we desperately needed our extended Team Miraculous.

Yanking open the grate to the massive sewer that we knew all too well, I checked the small tracker we’d found in the debris of my bedroom and nodded as the grate bounced with a metallic clank a few meters away. “About three hundred meters south-southwest,” I said, looking up at the concerned features of my partner.

“That’s the massive junction spot? Just before it dumps into the Seine, right?”

I nodded. “It is,” I replied as I looked up to Carapace and Rena, then back to Ladybug. “I think we should come in from the river,” I mused. “I don’t know if Mayura is aware of our powerups. Even if she is, though, if you and I come in from underwater and these two enter from here, we’ll still be able to cover two possible angles.”

Ladybug nodded. “We have to assume she does know; Hawkmoth has seen us use them enough, I can’t believe he wouldn’t have at least told her about them. Or that she wasn’t present by his side up there in that lair of his.”

I tried to push back the anger and frustration that came, unbidden, whenever I thought about how coolly my father had played it. As many times as he’d nearly killed Chat Noir, it was hard not to have hard feelings for both him _and_ his loyal aide, Nathalie. I looked to Cap. “What do you think?”

“I’m in,” Carapace said as he sat on the edge of the maintenance ingress for the sewer. “We can cover you from here.”

Rena nodded. “What should we expect?”

“Anything and everything,” I sighed.

“Got it,” she replied. “Be careful.”

“Right back at ya,” I said as I stood up. “Milady, care for a swim?”

“Not particularly,” she replied as we both started to run toward the river in the distance. “Especially the Seine.”

Despite everything, I laughed. “I thought I was the feline in this relationship?” I asked. “The one who hates getting wet.”

That made her laugh, too. “Your position is safe. Come on, we can power-up in that small alcove.”

It took but a moment to de-transform long enough to dig out my special aqua-mode Camembert for Plagg; he surprised me for once by not complaining about the power-up, and instead quickly hugged my arm before eating the cheese. “We’ll save him and her,” he said quietly after floating to my ear. “You can do this.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, and then in a green flash I was adorned with my fins and slightly altered costume.

Two steps from our hiding place and I leapt into a racing dive, cleanly splitting the choppy waves of the river in a smooth motion. Swimming was one sport that father had not forced me to do, but I’d found I had some natural ability in my prior turns with aqua mode; of course, it didn’t hurt that I could breath underwater and had the super-muscles that came with being Chat. Treading water for a moment against the somewhat strong current, I waited for Ladybug and watched from below as her graceful form burst through from the surface, trailing bubbles and much longer hair ties in her wake. Ladybug was beautiful to me in any form, but in the semi-twilight of underwater, she looked every inch like a fairytale mermaid – one that had stolen my heart completely.

“Milady,” I said as we began to swim toward the massive outlet from the sewer. “Have you ever gotten used to our ability to do this?”

“No,” she said as we paused at the edge of the cavernous opening. I continued to be amazed that my modified feline hearing made her voice crystal clear even beneath the waves. “Ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” I replied grimly.

Dolphin-kicking hard, I started down the brick-lined tunnel, fighting just a bit against the current and trying hard not to think about what I was swimming _in_. My feline nose didn’t work exactly the same underwater, but it was still sensitive enough to pick up traces of… well, material I’d rather not have smelled. Dodging various debris and few hardy species of fish, I swam toward an obvious junction point and paused, gripping the edge of the slick wall to stay put. I found myself missing my claws and their ability to anchor me in place, and made a note to talk to Plagg about that, assuming we survived the next few minutes.

Ladybug perched next to me as I pulled out the tracker again. Masked eyes darted from the red blip on the small screen to the expanse of flowing water in front of us as I pointed with a gloved finger. “That way, about a hundred meters. This also gives an altitude relative to our position,” I added, “and he’s about twenty meters above us.”

My partner’s masked eyes widened. “That puts him in the chamber for sure,” she said, looking forward for a moment, “but does that mean he’s suspended from the roof?”

“Maybe,” I replied as I slipped the tracker under my belt tail, just below the baton. “If he escaped, he could be scuttling around to get away from Mayura.”

Ladybug frowned. “The blood you saw in your room makes me think he might not be able to do that.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, my mane slowly wafting back and forth in the water as I did. “Bait, then,” I said grimly.

“Okay,” she said thoughtfully, and I recognized the look Ladybug often got when her Lucky Vision was engaging. “Kitty, I need you to do your thing. I’ll give you the high sign when I’m ready.”

“On it, Milady,” I smiled. While I had zero idea what she was planning, it didn’t matter; I had complete confidence that whatever it was, it would work. My role was to give her time to get the pieces in place, and as it turns out, I am pretty good at it.

Damn good.

I swam closer to her first, though, and leaned in for a kiss. “Please be careful,” I said quietly, barely above the rush of the water around us.

“I could say the same, Chat,” she smiled. 

I cocked my head at her as I started to swim away backwards. “You know me, LB.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she sighed.

Flipping around, I kicked hard and swam into the main space. The junction room above us was huge; we’d fought more than one akuma there and unfortunately knew the contours fairly well. Stroking for the edge, I pulled myself up to a spot just below the surface and in what I thought I recalled was a darker corner; pausing for a moment, I swiftly kicked hard and poked my mane just above the waterline, masked eyes and ears at most.

I’d guessed right, for my night vision kicked in as I blinked. It took but a second for me to take in the space; as I’d feared, Spider-Man was indeed suspended upside down from the cathedral ceiling, wrapped in some sort of webbing bundle made of material similar but not exactly the same as his own. A thin, white strand of it was connected to the bricks of the ceiling and looked deceptively fragile; for a fraction of a moment, I considered snapping my baton in two and trying to cut him down that way only to realize that was the intent of the setup – and likely not going to work.

A feline ear picked up a whisper and pivoted; I shifted my masked eyes and caught a glint of something in the opposite corner. Presumably thinking she was shrouded in darkness, Mayura was pressed to the stone, one hand behind her, the other holding her fan just in front of her face. As I watched for a moment, it seemed as though she were talking into the fan… which concerned me. While we had no true sense of how she controlled sentimonsters, the fan was a safe bet. My masked eyes flicked to Spider-Man and as he swung gently in his bundle, a deep dread settled into my stomach.

_He didn’t spin himself that cocoon, now did he?_ I thought. _This isn’t going to be fun._

Pivoting slightly, I didn’t make it a full three-sixty before my masked eyes flew wide in horror.

Perched in the upper reaches of the ceiling above me, pressed into a corner, was a massive spider-like creature. The fact that it appeared more like a robot and less like an arachnid took nothing away from the fact that it _looked_ like a giant spider; my last run in with something similar had not gone well, frankly, and I swallowed a bit at the prospect of going against one imbued with the full power of Mayura. As I continued to consider my foe, my heartbeat ticked up a bit as eight beady and slightly luminescent eyes settled in my general direction.

Holding still, I thought for a fraction of a second that it hadn’t seen me before that hope was dashed as it slowly began to wall-walk toward me. Cover blown, I decided to make the most of it and kicked up a bit, allowing me to speak. My voice sounded funny in the air after being underwater for a bit. “I’m not surprised you’re hiding down here in the darkness, Mayura,” I called out, my voice echoing. “It suits you.”

I chanced a moment to glance toward Mayura, confirming she was still in her position and still talking to her feather duster of a weapon before returning my attention to the sentimonster. My heart ticked up again, for in the space of a few moments, it had halved the distance between us, and as I watched it pause, I could actually feel it considering me and, perhaps, it’s next move. It was hard not to assume it was also contemplating it’s next meal as those beady eyes raked over me.

“Hawkmoth is gone,” I continued as I kicked a bit and moved more toward the center of the space. “This is pointless. Without him, your plans are shot—”

“You know _nothing_ of what we were planning, alley cat,” Mayura spat as she lowered her fan, anger lacing every syllable. “You’ve won nothing.”

“I know that,” I said, moving a bit faster as the spider landed on the brick raised walkway I’d been floating next to earlier. From my new position, I could keep both the sentimonster and Mayura in frame as it were. “But what are you hoping to gain? We want the same thing at this point.”

“Highly unlikely,” she replied. 

The sentimonster dipped one of it’s multicolored legs into the water and I frowned. I’d had enough biology classes to know that most species of spiders didn’t swim, but when magic was involved, it was hard to know if the Laws of Nature would be respected or not. “You can’t know that,” I said reasonably, kicking just a bit harder to put a little more distance between me and the spider. “Stand down. Let Spider-Man go. Then we can talk.”

“Not today, I think,” Mayura said as she lifted her fan again.

Somewhat prepared for the next part, I slipped beneath the surface, folded myself in half and dove quickly for the depths, intending to cross to the far side of the space to continue my monologuing. Halfway to the bottom, though, a massive splash from above and behind me let me know simple biology wasn’t going to be helpful. Twisting, I had a fraction of a moment to see the sentimonster diving after me; it had tucked all but two legs behind it, streamlining against the water. As I attempted to twist up and away, kicking hard, something hit my boot and sent me somersaulting in the wrong direction.

Throwing my legs and arms out, I managed to stop my water-tumble, then kicked hard toward a wall. A half-meter out, I flipped and hit the wall with my boots, pushing away forcefully and jetting beneath the sentimonster. It was unable to change direction quite as quickly, so I managed to put some distance between us, but it was a pyrrhic victory: I was forcefully slammed face first into the far wall hard enough stars appeared at the edge of my vision. Blinking them away, I attempted to scuttle along the wall only to find a glob of webbing had glued my thigh to the slimy brick. I swore in three languages, for I was going nowhere, fast. 

So much for being a distraction.


	76. Unstuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As Chat struggles with his assignment, he gets an unexpected boost from multiple sources._

_Lovely. Just lovely,_ I thought as I tried fruitlessly to twist my thigh out from beneath the webbing. _I’m oh-for-two when it comes to spiders and webs._

Continuing to swear profusely, I started to go at the sticky mass with a paw intending to shred it with my claws before coming up short for two reasons: first, I remembered they hadn’t helped the first time I’d become ensnared by a spider, and second, I seemed to be fresh out of them anyway. Swiftly I reached around for my baton instead and extended it, intending to slide it beneath the only open space I could find in an attempt to pry myself loose. As I raised my paw, though, it, too, was slammed back against the brick as a second mass of white engulfed my wrist, effectively pinning both it and the baton at a useless and somewhat painful angle.

Now swearing in three languages, I looked over my shoulder as I tried to tug my way free. The sentimonster was swimming, shark-like, maybe ten meters behind me; it was close enough now I could see the clever web spinnerets that tipped the two forward legs, pointing at me menacingly. Unsure why it was just hovering there, I reached my free paw around and tried to get at the baton, but it was just far enough away I couldn’t bridge the distance. Thoroughly annoyed now, I growled and then pressed both free legs and my one paw against the brick, shoving with every ounce of super-strength I had.

To my surprise, I popped off the slimy brick and floated away a few meters, trailing strands of white in my wake; whether due to the algae or other amazingly awful things smeared along that part of the channel, I didn’t care. As if my very life depended on it, I made like a dolphin and bolted in a random direction, using the swift current to put some distance between myself and the sentimonster. In moments, I found myself sailing back down the main tunnel to the Seine and smiled slightly; the wider river would give me more room to navigate – if I could make it there. My pursuer had other opinions on the matter, though, as the bolts of webbing being shot after me made for hazards that became harder and hard to avoid.

I swam; man, did I swim. I pushed myself as fast as my feline body would let me; whether it was one kilometer or ten, it didn’t matter, for the point was I’d successfully managed to draw the sentimonster away from Mayura. While I didn’t know Ladybug’s plan, my gut instinct told me whatever she would do required the freedom to operate without the sentimonster being in the way. As the channel opened up and I darted out into the river itself, a blur of aqua green crossed my vision and I instinctively dove in the opposite direction.

Coming about, I caught Viperion’s lyre as it smashed into a spot just behind those eight eyes. It scored a direct hit, and something cracked, the sound reverberating beneath the waves; as the spider’s body went slack, the dark blue amok started to float up and away.

Kicking hard, I swam after the amok as it floated up the channel, all the while wondering if Cataclysm would work under water – and realizing that wasn’t the only risk. Using it now meant it would be unavailable to my partner unless I somehow managed to recharge Plagg. But without Ladybug to purify the feather, it was the only option.

“Cataclysm!” I cried just as I caught up to the feather. The power sizzled through my hand as I tapped the feather, but I didn’t wait to watch it fully dissolve before turning to Viperion. “I see you’ve found out about the powerups,” I said as he pulled up beside me and the two of us started to stroke for the main junction once more.

“Master Fu gave it to me,” he replied as he swam. “When he dropped off the Miraculous. I had no idea snakes could swim.”

“That makes two of us,” I said as we crossed back into the main space.

The murky depths appeared to be clear of any surprises, and I took a moment to consider my next move. I had to assume Ladybug had already called on her Charm; as I hovered there at the edge, my masked eyes turned to the ledge where I’d spotted Mayura originally. If she were still there…

“Criss-cross?” I asked, an idea forming.

“On it,” Viperion replied, already plugged into my idea. He kicked hard and shot away from me.

I swam for the opposite side and them popped up again, masked eyes just above the surface. Ignoring the chirping of my ring, I saw Ladybug on the ledge going hand-to-hand with Mayura. Her fins were gone, so she’d dropped her powerup; as concerned as I was to see her fighting solo, she appeared to be holding her own, deftly deflecting each attack from Mayura with a well-placed yo-yo defense. Still, I started to swim to her aid when I caught the flash of Rena’s flute in the partial light. She was off to the right – well, actually, _six_ female fox superheroes were surrounding Mayura, and I could see the villain was having trouble dealing with Ladybug _and_ determining which Rena was the true threat.

Swiveling, I caught the blue-green hair of Viperion, and I nodded when he pantomimed he’d activated his Second Chance; he swiftly pulled himself out of the water and took up a position between Ladybug and one of the Rena Rouge mirages. As he stepped up, Ladybug pulled a polka-dotted something from her hip and tossed it to him; I didn’t wait to see what the Charm was before I backstroked to the ledge I was closest to. Quickly pulling myself up to the stone, I took off at a run, yanking out my baton with the intent of trying to slice down Spidey.

As I started to snap it apart, I skidded to a rubbery stop at the edge of the stone; Carapace had appeared at the far end from the channel that led to Trocadero. Catching my eye, I didn’t have to tell him what to do. He simply nodded and pulled off his shield; a moment later, it was on it’s way toward the swaying cocoon of Spidey. The green disc neatly sliced the gossamer thread before arcing back toward it’s owner.

I dove back into the water just as Spidey started to drop; a few kicks and I was just beneath him when he splashed down. He was struggling a bit in the embrace of the webbing, and I could see bubbles trailing from his mask as he sank like a rock.

Cracking the baton open into rebreather mode, I yanked his mask off with a paw and shoved the baton into his mouth. I tried to ignore the bloody nose and black eye he’d been hiding under his mask. “Breathe normally,” I said as I held him, kicking hard to slow his descent.

His eyes widened at the sound of my voice and his eyebrows went up questioningly.

“Long story,” I said. “Do you have that substance that dissolves webbing?”

He nodded vigorously and used his eyes to point me toward his belt. It took a moment of delicate probing – he winced at one point, telling me he had at least one fractured rib – before I found the small flask he’d used on me back in New York. It hadn’t been that long ago but now felt as though it had been another lifetime. Praying it would work underwater, I doused it liberally around his bindings and was rewarded with the same bubbling and dissolving routine as before. Once it was sufficiently weakened, I pulled enough away from his arms and legs Spidey could swim on his own, though it was clear he was in no shape to do so.

Carefully, I carried him over to the edge and gently lifted him to the stones where he collapsed, breathing hard. I knelt next to him, briefly checking for other visible injuries. “Ribs,” he moaned as he handed my back my baton. “And a lot of scrapes.”

Quite a lot of his costume had been torn or ripped, and I marveled he was even moving. My masked eyes flicked over to Ladybug, who with the help of Carapace, Rena and Viperion, had cornered Mayura. They weren’t more than a few meters from us, and as Mayura turned, the Peacock Miraculous glinted a bit in the light. 

I started to raise my ring hand, intended to leap in and take it the Miraculous with my Cataclysm, but the chirping reminded me I’d already gone that route and had less than four minutes before losing my transformation. As I started to frantically cast about for options, a thin line of white webbing shot out from beneath me and deftly hit the jewel with a _thwip_ noise. Mayura had a fraction of a second to register what was happening before the webbing recoiled, and the Peacock jewel snapped from her costume.

My feline reflexes let me snatch it out of the air as it passed, and I looked down to Spider-Man. Staring up at me from his side, he smiled as the detransformation washed over Nathalie behind me. “How the Hell—” I started.

“Lucky shot,” he said before grimacing. “And I owed her…” he added before his eyes rolled back into his head and he sagged into unconsciousness.

Stashing the jewel in my zippered pocket, I pressed a gloved hand to his neck and confirmed he was still alive. “That you did,” I said appreciatively before I looked up to Ladybug, who was trailing a petite peacock kwami. “I’ve got to get him to a hospital,” I told her.

“Go,” she nodded.

I picked Spidey up and bolted down the stones of walkway, heading toward the Trocadero. Dropping my aqua-mode powerup as I hit the grate I’d opened for Carapace, I leapt upward and landed on the stone, pausing for a moment to get my bearings. There was an Emergency Room a few blocks from the plaza and I took off at a run, leaping around obstacles as carefully as I could to avoid injuring Spider-Man any further. Hurtling a parking balustrade, I blew through the double glass doors of the ER.

“My colleague needs medical assistance,” I said urgently to the rather shocked nurse that met me. “And discretion.”

Blinking, the nurse nodded and pulled me to a small room just off the corridor. “In here, Chat,” she said as she waved at two colleagues. “Get the duty doctor,” she commanded to the first colleague, then turned to me. “What are we looking at?”

“I think internal injuries,” I replied as I gently put him on the exam table.

“What happened?” the third nurse asked as they started to cut away at what was left of Peter’s costume.

“Hawkmoth’s final stand,” I said simply. 

“Final?” the first nurse said, her eyes hitting mine.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “And we couldn’t have done it without him.”

“Then we’ll do our best to help him,” she smiled. “But you’ll need to step out.”

“Okay,” I said as I backed away. “I’m not going far,” I added as my tail hit the door.

“I expected as much,” she smiled as nurses and doctor pushed around me. “The nurse’s lounge is to your right. You can wait there.”

“Thanks,” I said, hearing the rather urgent chirps from my ring as I turned and exited.

As my paws hit the door to the lounge, I had just enough time to ensure the space was clear before my transformation dropped and Plagg phased into existence in front of me. Suddenly world-weary, I sank to the floor with my back against the door and didn’t say a word as I pulled several slices of cheese out for Plagg. He gulped down the pieces in rapid succession, hugged my bicep and simply nodded, knowing we needed to re-transform before Adrien Agreste faced any difficult questions.

The green wave of transformation had barely returned my feline ears and mask before my baton buzzed. Sliding it off my back, I saw the welcome visage of Ladybug. “He’s being looked at now,” I said without preamble. “I’m going to hang out here for a bit if that’s okay.”

“Absolutely,” she said, and I could tell from the way the picture was moving she was in motion. “Did you get the circuit?”

My heart stopped. How had I forgotten about that? Swearing, I pushed myself up from the floor and started back toward the exam room. “I’ll get it now,” I said.

“I’m on my way. We’ll regroup at the mansion after I retrieve it and see if we can’t get the system back online.”

“Thanks,” I said as I paused outside the exam room, my masked eyes looking through the glass to see the ER staff working on Peter. Belatedly, I realized I still had his mask in the other paw. I stared at it as I continued. “He really put it all on the line for us, didn’t he?”

“He’s a solid friend to Paris,” Ladybug replied. “To us. To _you_.”

“We owe him a lot.”

“Yes,” she replied. “Look, I’ve got to recharge before I get there. Meet you on the roof in five?”

“I’ll be there,” I answered as her image faded out.

I stood there for a moment, looking, truly looking at juxtaposition of the brilliant green pawprint of my ring and, through the window, the ashen face of my friend – no, _teammate_, I corrected – and sent up a prayer to all of the kwamis that he pulled through.

What gave me pause more than anything was the realization that I was more invested in making sure Peter survived than ensuring I had the means to save my mother. As watched the emergency room experts swarm around the exam bed, it dawned on me that I’d lost her a long time ago; Peter, on the other hand, was very much alive and part of my growing awareness of just who I was. Like the other members of Team Miraculous, he was part of my family – the one that I knew I had now. The one I wanted. The one that valued me for who I was, not what I brought to the brand. 

I still loved my mother – had loved? – and would do everything I could to get her out of whatever it was Hawkmoth had done to her. But I was no longer defined by having “lost” her – any more than by the fact my father had become such a menace to Paris. There was a long road ahead, no question; rehabilitating the Agreste name alone would take years. With the support of Ladybug, though, I knew I could make it through.

What a crazy rollercoaster of a ride it had been. And who knew what was yet to come?

I pushed through the door to the exam room, ready to face the next part of my journey.


	77. Favors Large and Small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As the first day without Hawkmoth dawns, Chat and Ladybug are forced to seek assistance from an outside source to deal with what Gabriel has left behind._

The golden rays of first light burst across the rooftops of Paris, bathing the city I loved in warm tones and chasing away the shadows of darkness that had, at least for a little while, given me temporary sanctuary. Chat Noir had long been a creature of the night; it was a companion I knew well, one that often helped to clear my thoughts and provide much needed perspective beneath the canopy of stars. That night had been no different save for the unique tensions between my friend fighting for his life in the hospital below where I was perched and the glass coffin halfway across the city that held a piece of my life that had been lost to me a long, long time ago.

My baton was still in one paw, slid open to the phone function though my conversation with Ladybug had been over for some time. I kept my masked feline eyes on the rising sun, trying to find some solace in the fact that the days did continue, regardless of whatever happened to any one of us. Somewhere in there was some optimism, I supposed, but the darkened screen on my baton had made it hard to find.

_The circuit worked,_ Ladybug had told me, _but even after working at it all night, the best we can do is simply keep everything running just as it was. Pegasus understands most of what Hawkmoth created, but Spider-Man puzzled out the rest. Without him…_

She’d trailed off at that point and had looked away as a tear slipped quietly from one of her beautiful masked blue eyes.

_I… spoke with Master Fu; he hasn’t made any progress,_ she’d continued. _I don’t know what to tell you, Chat. I honestly don’t know what to do._

As dawn continued to make itself known to the city, I turned my wild mane in the direction of the prison at the far end of Paris. Nathalie and Father were there, in separate wings; Nadjia had already posted the scoop of the century online, with the lurid details of what the two had done as Hawkmoth and Mayura, as well as the rather surprising announcement there would be no trial. Both had quickly pled to the charges the Magistrate had drawn up, and in what had to have been a record for the French Criminal Justice System, immediately began serving their sentences before the ink had even dried.

Going to Gabriel at the prison to have him help unwind what he had done to my mother was certainly an option, but it was not one I was mentally ready for. Going to him as _Chat_ would make it easier, for sure, but at the end of the day we still had a biological connection I found myself deeply ashamed of. So for now, reaching out to the man I no longer considered my father was a last-ditch Hail Mary to put off as long as possible.

My masked eyes flicked down to the baton as it buzzed and caught the incoming text message from Carapace. As only a true best friend could do, he’d been trading shifts with me in the waiting room outside of intensive care, keeping tabs on Peter’s progress during what was proving to be something of a marathon surgery. From what the ER nurses had told me, any normal human would have been dead from the injuries he’d presented with; whatever fight he’d had with Mayura, the miracle of being Spider-Man had likely saved him – or, at the very least, kept him alive long enough for the doctors to try and pull him through.

A slight upwelling of anger at how Mayura had treated him – all of us, actually – had me growling slightly as I read his text.

** _Cap: _ ** _He’s out and in recovery. Doc says next twenty-four hours are critical. We can see him when he wakes up._

** _Chat:_ ** _ Good news. I’ll be down in a few, need to make a call._

** _Cap:_ ** _ Take your time, dude. I’ll be here._

Tapping the baton against my chin, I knew intellectually what I had to do, for at the end of the day, despite all of the powers the Miraculous bestowed on me, I was still just a teenager in a skintight cat costume. Ladybug and I both knew were out of our depth and needed help; Master Fu might have been the obvious choice, but he’d come up short. And then there was the issue of Adrien Agreste, for when my alter-ego made his inevitable appearance in a few hours to react to the news of his father being arrested, hard questions were going to be asked about how much he knew and what level of complicity he’d had in Hawkmoth’s actions.

Revealing who I was to the world – that I’d been Chat Noir the entire time, fighting to the end against Hawkmoth’s reign of terror against Paris – would quickly solve the problem, but something in the back of my fur brain told me this wasn’t the time to give up my Miraculous. There would be other Hawkmoth characters, for, sadly, nature abhorred a vacuum. When the next super-villain arrived, Ladybug would need me by her side; there was no way I would let her down. There was, perhaps, only one other person on the planet who would understand my situation and, hopefully, be in a position to assist.

Scrolling through my contacts on the baton with a claw, I found the entry I needed and hovered the sharp edge over the dial button, knowing that if I went through with what I was considering, strings would be attached and, possibly, much would change for both myself and Ladybug. Did I want that?

My gut told me it was the right path forward, and I tapped the icon.

The screen burst to life, displaying the grim visage of someone I’d not thought I’d reach out to so soon. He simply nodded as the picture came into focus.

“Directory Fury,” I started. “I need your help.”

The one eye not covered by his patch narrowed. “I wondered when you’d call. Stay where you are, I’ll be there in ten.”

* * *

Fury had an apt name, for by the time I’d filled him in on every detail – well, _nearly_ every detail – I could tell he was having a hard time holding back his anger. Still, he’d managed to keep a lid on his temper long enough for me to fully explain how Peter had wound up in intensive care, and what, exactly he was looking at as he stood, arms crossed against his leather overcoat, at the side of the glass casket containing Emilie Agreste.

Ladybug and I were at the bottom of the steps of the dais upon which the slightly tilted casket had been placed; Pegasus was beside Fury, holding the tablet from which he’d detailed what Team Miraculous had been able to glean from how the coffin worked. Carapace and Rena were back at the hospital, so Viperion rounded out what was currently our merry band of, as Fury had tightly observed, “teenagers with too much power and too little oversight for their own good.”

The space felt no less oppressive now that we were fully in charge of it. Part of our explanation had involved walking Fury, literally, through Agreste Manor and showing him everything we’d found, including Hawkmoth’s lair. We hadn’t quite gotten to the elephant in the room, but the way Fury had carefully gone through my bedroom as part of our impromptu tour told me I’d not yet dodged that bullet. Watching Fury as he clearly weighed what to do about us and the problem we’d presented to him was, in a detached way, intriguing. From what Peter had told me, the Director always had an angle to play. While Spider-Man respected Fury immensely, he’d often preferred going to Tony Stark.

As Fury finally turned back toward us, I wondered if I’d made a mistake in involving S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Considering what you’ve been through, I’m rather impressed with what you’ve managed to do,” he said grudgingly, his voice echoing in the space slightly. “Despite the fact you are all _children_.”

“We were entrusted with the safety of the city,” Ladybug said simply. “We haven’t truly given it a second thought.”

“What are you? Like sixteen?”

I felt color rising on my cheeks and tried to tack away from his question. “Can you help her?”

Fury frowned. “Maybe,” he sighed. “We obviously deal with the unusual, so I’m sure I have some brilliant egghead that might be able to take the data you’ve collected so far and puzzle out how to undo whatever this—” he waved his hands angrily at the casket “—might be.” He turned on heel and moved down to us, his overcoat flapping as he moved. “You said this was his _wife_?”

“Yes,” I nodded, trying to ignore his use of past tense.

“Christ.” Fury looked up at the casket again. “Does his son know about this? About what’s going on?” he asked, pointedly keeping his eyes away from us.

I tried not to hesitate and launched into the cover story Ladybug and I had hatched. “No,” I said carefully. “We removed him from the mansion as soon as we discovered Hawkmoth’s identity. He’s staying with a classmate at the moment.”

“And you say this kid -- Adrien?” he started, turning his one good eye on me over his shoulder, “He’s not part of this? Wasn’t colluding with Hawkmoth?”

“No,” Ladybug replied. “We know for a fact he was never aware of what his father was up to. He will be… devastated… when he finds out,” she added, looking at me for a moment. “More so if we tell him that we’ve discovered what happened to his mother.”

“I’d prefer not to have _that_ conversation with him until we know you can help her,” I added. “It might be best for him to think she’s… gone. Still.”

Fury turned toward me fully, appraising me anew. “That is an amazingly mature observation,” he said softly, as he put a hand to my costumed shoulder.

“It’s not my first rodeo with a victim of Hawkmoth,” I said, smiling humorlessly. _Though it’s new _being_ a victim myself_.

“Can you help us?” Ladybug asked. 

Fury looked back at the casket, then back to me specifically. “Do you think the kid will mind us landing a few vehicles in the driveway?”

“No,” I replied.

Fury nodded. “I’m gonna want to talk to him myself,” he continued. “It’s not that I don’t trust your instincts, but frankly, I trust very little of _anything_ these days.”

“Only if I can be there with you,” Ladybug said quickly.

The Director paused again before nodding. “Then let’s get started.”


	78. Keeping Up Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Adrien meets his match when Director Fury interviews him in connection with the reveal of Hawkmoth’s true identity. Will Chat be able to prevent Fury from learning one more secret?_

“You knew _nothing_, Adrien?”

I sat at the table in Sabine’s kitchen and hoped that Fury was unable to hear the pounding of my heart. My model training hadn’t been required to look earnest when answering the vast majority of Director Fury’s questions over the past several hours, but this one, the one I’d expected, was hard not to stumble on. Especially because it felt as though my face could easily betray the waves of guilt that continued to wash over me for not having seen what was happening right beneath my feline nose – guilt that would be misinterpreted, perhaps, as having been a willing participant in _any_ of Father’s misguided designs. Screwing up the answer in any way would have ramifications I wasn’t sure I could recover from.

It wasn’t hard to lean on my model tricks to show some of the devastation I felt, though; I may have even let my eyes mist up a bit and had my breath catch slightly. “No, Monsieur Fury,” I replied in the Director’s native tongue, careful to keep my English heavily accented. On our way back from the mansion, Ladybug had reminded me that Chat Noir had inadvertently used nearly flawless diction in all of my prior interactions with Fury. Even though my voice was slightly different when transformed, it would be too much of a coincidence if Adrien sounded as fluent as Chat.

The Director focused his attention on me like a laser. “Nothing about your father seemed out of the ordinary?”

“No,” I said. “I mean, he was – how do you say in English?” I asked, as I tilted my head and furrowed my brow, making it look as though I was hunting for the right phrase. “I think you say, he was ‘a changed man’ after the disappearance of my mother. He worked constantly.”

Fury arched an eyebrow. “That didn’t seem strange?”

Shaking my head, I tried to tamp down my rising anxiety, for looking back on it now, it certainly did. “I have – had? – a busy schedule, Monsieur. Nearly every minute of each day was accounted for, between my tutoring, my extracurriculars and, of course, the work I do as a model for House of Gabriel.” I paused. “His assistant was tasked with making sure I followed my schedule to the letter.”

Fury nodded. “It’s hard to go anywhere in this city and not see a billboard of you.”

“_Oui_,” I nodded, and shrugged halfheartedly. “It’s my… life,” I continued, and looked up at him again. “Or it was.”

Director Fury leaned back on the bench, and looked to the striking woman who’d accompanied him to the interview. Clearly, they had worked together for some time, for a knowing look passed between them – the same sort of non-verbal communication I enjoyed with Ladybug. My anxiety notched up slightly, and I glanced over my shoulder to the reassuring presence of Ladybug standing next to me. Subtly, she stepped a bit closer to me, a gentle reminder she had my back.

“You expect me to believe that a thirteen-year-old such as yourself never snuck around the mansion? Never ventured into places considered off limits?”

Tom and Sabine were standing behind Fury and his assistant, and I could see from the thin line of her mouth, Marinette’s mother was displeased with the inquisition. For some reason, it gave me a much needed burst of confidence. I shook my head. 

“Actually, I’m almost fifteen, Monsieur,” I said, and then shrugged as I looked at my nails. “And that was kind of forbidden. Crossing my father meant losing my chance to go to school, or have friends.” I looked up at Fury with what I hope was earnestness. “I wasn’t even allowed to leave the mansion until last year,” I added, trying hard not to smile at the quasi-lie. For after becoming Chat, I’d come and gone as I pleased from the gilded cage of my bedroom.

Fury swore. “Forgive me, son, but your father sounds like what we call in the States a gen-u-ine jerk.”

“He was… a hard man to please,” I replied.

Fury swore again, causing Sabine to blush this time. “_That_ would seem to be an understatement,” he said, and pushed up from his chair. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you, kid. I will smooth the way with the authorities locally, but I can’t do much with respect to the company your father was running.”

My eyes widened. “Will I have to take over?” I asked, although I was well aware of the answer. Father had drilled into me for _years_ how he expected the family business to continue with me in my rightful place as heir to the empire (such as it was).

“I’ll leave that to the lawyers,” he replied. Fury looked to Tom and Sabine. “Can he stay with you for a bit longer? We have some work to do at his home before he can return.”

“Adrien is welcome to stay as long as necessary,” Tom replied. “We’ll make sure he has a safe place he can call home until this all blows over.”

“Good,” Fury replied as he turned back to me. “Do you have access to cash?”

I looked to Ladybug. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “I usually asked Nathalie for anything I needed, but I do have my own credit card. I can’t do much beyond that,” I shrugged, “as my trust fund isn’t available until I turn twenty-one.”

“All right,” he nodded again. “I have people that can look into that too. They’ll be in touch.”

With that, Fury turned and in a flurry of leather, disappeared through the door to the residence, his assistant close behind. The door had barely closed before Sabine had rushed around the table and enveloped me in a massive hug. Surprised slightly, it didn’t take much for me to lean into the genuine token of affection. 

“You poor dear,” she said softly as she pulled away. “Make yourself right at home. Marinette has told us a bit about your father,” she added with a quick glance and frown of disapproval at Tom.

“It’s going to take a bit to sink in, I think,” I replied. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. I’m sorry to put you out at all.”

“Don’t worry a bit about it,” Tom said as he put one of his monster hands on my shoulder. Even without my feline sense of smell, the wonderful odor of yeast and flour that enveloped him made me smile a bit. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“I’m actually beat,” I said, adding an exaggerated yawn and trying to quell the rumble from my stomach. “Would you mind if I take a nap?”

“Of course,” Sabine said with a smile. “I’m sure it’s been a long couple of days. Go rest; when you’re ready, come on down to the shop and we’ll whip up something for you.” She paused for a moment and there was a hint of glee in her eyes before she added: “Maybe even a passionfruit macaron or two.”

Despite myself, my eyes widened. “Those are my favorite,” I said.

“We are well aware of that,” Tom laughed. “I’m sure when Marinette gets back from Alya’s she’ll want to make you a fresh batch straightaway.”

I hugged Sabine again before turning to Ladybug. “Thank you,” I said with meaning lost on her parents.

“My pleasure,” she replied as she put a hand on my shoulder. “Paris is here for you, Adrien.” She looked to Tom and Sabine. “And I appreciate you doing this favor for me and Chat Noir.’

“It’s the least we can do, Ladybug,” Sabine replied. “Paris owes the two of you more than it can ever repay.”

Ladybug nodded; pulling her yo-yo from her hip she smiled again and then headed out of the residence. I picked up the duffel I’d quickly packed from the mansion and made my way to the guest room, a space I’d used a few times before when we’d had one of Marinette’s all-weekend sleepover parties. On the face of it, they had appeared to her parents to be casual teen get-togethers, but they’d also allowed the core four of Team Miraculous to decompress, especially after some of the nastier akumas Hawkmoth had thrown at us. Unfortunately, the guys had always been relegated to the cramped room, something Nino and I had good-naturedly complained about. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it and took in the space anew; it was likely going to be home for a while, and to be honest, the small twin bed, tiny desk and dresser felt like just what I needed. A sense of normalcy in what had become a rather outsized life as a secret superhero.

Plagg floated out from his hiding spot as I sighed. “I’m glad I still have you,” I said affectionately as he landed in my outstretch palm. “You are one of the few constants in all of this.”

For brief moment, the Kwami of Destruction let his crusty exterior soften. “I’ll be here for as long as you need me,” he said quietly. “But you need to hurry! Fury is expecting Chat Noir to still be at the mansion.”

I nodded as I tossed the duffel to the bed in a smooth motion, and softly spoke the magic words: “Plagg – claws out!”

One green flash of transformation later, I was pressing a feline ear to the door in an attempt to hear what my hosts were up to; I caught snatches of their conversation as they headed out of the residence proper and down to the bakery below. The love the two had for each other had long been evident to me, as well as their unabashed kindness to both Adrien and Chat Noir. I felt no small amount of guilt at using their good nature against them with my lie – one of many that morning – but Plagg was right: I needed to get to the mansion in order to keep up appearances. And Fury had a head start.

Quicky I moved to the only redeeming quality of the room that both Carapace and I had appreciated: a tall window facing a blind alley. More than once, we’d been called to action during one of our weekends and had been able to sneak to the fight without disturbing Tom and Sabine just down the hall. The window opened easily beneath my paws and I pulled myself out, briefly clinging to the ledge before leaping to the wall opposite and then back to the bakery, albeit higher, carefully ping-ponging up the alley until I reached the rear of Marinette’s rooftop patio.

Ladybug was already perched on what would normally be _my_ chimney and smiled as she shot her yo-yo out to join me on the journey toward the mansion. “How do you think it went?” she asked.

“I think he bought most of it,” I said as leapt over an alleyway. “But I’m not totally convinced he won’t continue poking at me to see if I was truly in league with Gabriel.”

“You keep doing that,” Ladybug observed. “Calling your father by his first name.”

I nodded sharply. “He stopped being my father when I realized who he _truly_ was.”

“That seems… harsh, Chat,” Ladybug said not unkindly. “At the end of the day—”

“What’s the situation at the mansion?” I asked curtly, wishing very much to change the topic.

My partner had the good sense to drop the subject – but I knew she’d come back to it later. “Rena is already in position,” she said as she swung beside me. “She had plenty of time to recharge Trixx after Fury departed to meet you.”

Leaping over a skylight, I loped along a rooftop beside her. “I owe her – all of you, really – a lot.”

“I meant what I said,” Ladybug smiled. “Paris is here for you, Chat. We’ll get through this, but we’ll do it together.”

A rush of feeling welled up inside of me. “Milady—”

“Hush,” she said. “You’re worth it.”

I figured it was easier not to argue. “Any word on Spidey?”

She nodded as we closed to within two blocks of the mansion. “Viperion is there now. Carapace wanted to back up Rena and I couldn’t say no,” she laughed. “Last update from the doctor was that Peter was still unconscious. They’ve done all they can, but the next twenty-four hours are critical.”

“Damn. I’ll want—”

“I know,” she smiled again. “We’ll make this as short as we can and then head over to the hospital. Fury is bound to understand.”

“I hope so,” I said softly, thinking of my friend and his battle at the hospital.

As we quickly worked our way over the city, there was one question that had been plaguing me from the moment I’d left Peter in the Emergency Room. “Milady,” I said slowly, “don’t take this the wrong way, but why didn’t your Miraculous Cure fix Spider-Man?”

Ladybug sighed. “I honestly don’t know,” she replied. “The Miraculous Cure is _supposed _to repair any damage Hawkmoth inflicts on the city, but it’s entirely possible Spidey didn’t get injured as a result of anything Hawkmoth did.”

“Even if it was Mayura that hurt him?” My anger at Nathalie bubbled up once more.

“That does muddy things a bit. I’ll have to have another conversation with Master Fu,” she added, a look of regret on her face, “for it’s just as likely I didn’t do something I needed to.”

“It’s not your fault he’s in the hospital,” I pointed out.

“Any more than it’s yours,” she reminded me. “If that helps.”

“Sort of,” I said. “But not really.”

“He’s in good hands now, Chat,” she reminded me. “He’ll pull through.” 

Whatever else I wanted to say went on hold as we landed side-by-side on the rooftop overlooking the mansion, and my masked eyes widened at the jet-like vehicle sitting in the driveway; at least a dozen people were shuttling various technical-looking items into the mansion from the rear cargo hold. All were dressed in some sort of quasi-military uniform similar to what we had seen in Los Angeles.

“Fury moved fast,” I said appreciatively. “I’ve only been gone a few hours.”

“Rena says they’ve been searching the place with a fine-toothed comb.” My girlfriend turned to me, wearing a sly smile. “I hope you don’t have any _other_ secrets in your bedroom you wouldn’t want disseminated.”

My face flamed slightly, for despite the mask and ears, I was still a teenager; I’d never thought about the personal invasion of having someone paw through my life so intimately. “Other than my manga books,” I said sheepishly, “and maybe a few poor choices in the underwear department, all they are likely to find is hundreds of gigabytes of Ladybug photos.”

Ladybug smirked. “What _sort_ of underwear?”

Amazingly, despite being a supermodel, I could feel the increasing heat of embarrassment on the exposed portions of my face, for I was reasonably sure I’d spied the very magazine said underwear had been featured in among the items on Marinette’s rather cluttered desk a few weeks prior. For a moment, I wondered how it was possible for me to be flawlessly professional in front of a photographer and yet somehow insanely flustered at the very thought my girlfriend might be at that very moment picturing me in those skimpy briefs.

Coughing into a paw, I prudently tried to refocus her. “Where do I make my entrance?”

Still smirking and giving me the _you’re-not-off-the-hook-yet_ look, Ladybug snapped open her yo-yo and tapped out a message, then nodded when it chirped a response. “Fury is in the atelier, but he passed through the atrium a moment ago and saw Chat helping Carapace.” She looked up. “Carapace and my faux kitty have been searching the entire network of hidden passages.”

“Clever.”

“Especially since they are just about to go offstage,” she replied as she snapped the phone shut. “Cap said there is a spare bedroom on the third floor, rear, that we can safely catch up with him.”

I nodded. “It’s the main guest room,” I replied with a smile. “The last person to stay there was my aunt and cousin – the one that looks like me?”

“He’s a piece of work,” Ladybug replied.

“Felix is… complicated,” I said with a slight smile. “Come on -- I’m sure Carapace is already anxious that we’ve not caught up with him yet. Let’s not make our turtle friend wait any longer than he has to...”


	79. Weighing Weighted Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Director Fury lays out what he can do for Emilie Agreste, and what he can’t -- or won’t. That gives Chat plenty to think about as he returns to the hospital to stand vigil over Spider-Man._

“_There_ you are.”

The windows of the spare guest room were large but not as generous as those of my bedroom; still, the sash opened wide enough that it was easy to vault through and land in my cat-crouch a meter or so from a somewhat agitated Carapace. By mansion standards, the room was rather cozy; despite that, two king beds were along the far wall, and a small set of chairs facing the windows surrounded a low coffee table. All were covered by industrial white cloth, masking the shapes a bit and giving the area that certain feel of disuse and, frankly, creepy despair. A small dresser was set on the side wall with a round mirror above; there was an arched entrance to the bathroom in the far corner. Felix and my aunt had been the final two guests some time ago, and the space had been mothballed since. In truth it was only my second or third time actually _inside_ the room, for that part of my explanation to Director Fury had been accurate: prior to becoming Chat Noir, sneaking around forbidden areas of the mansion had been out of the question.

Looking up from beneath my bangs, I tried to smile in an effort to defuse the turtle’s obvious anxiety. “Thanks for covering – the interview went far longer than I thought it would.”

“Yeah, well, your timing is lousy,” Carapace hissed as he jerked his head toward the door. “Rena’s just about had it.”

My masked feline eye flicked in that direction just in time to see faux Chat flicker and vanish; it was a bit odd seeing myself like that, but I had to admit Rena’s abilities had gotten immeasurably better. For her part, the fox was sagging next to the door frame, her necklace chirping out what appeared to be the two-minute warning.

“Where are we supposed to be?” I asked as I stood, sliding the baton home at the small of my back.

“In the hidden passages still,” Cap said quickly. “We’re _supposed_ to be on the way down to the, uh… well, you know, and meet up with Fury and his team there.”

I nodded, realizing he was hesitant to name the mausoleum for what it was. “And you’re _sure_ Fury saw me – well, faux me – with you?”

“Yes,” Carapace replied.

I turned to my partner. “LB, were you supposed to head back here after the interview?”

“That was rather open ended,” she replied. “I imagine Fury would have preferred me to make another appearance, but nothing was set in stone.”

“Then take Rena and head for the Hospital; she can recharge Trixx enroute.”

Ladybug’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you don’t want me here?”

I thought about that, for even I was surprised that I’d recommended Ladybug leave. “I think I need to be the one to do this next part, Milady,” I said, putting a hand to her arm. “Not that I don’t want you with me. That would never be the case.” I turned a smile on Carapace. “As long as the turtle is willing to hang out, I think I’ll be okay.”

Ladybug looked at Carapace and then back to me. “Leaving the boys in charge? Rena, this feels like a recipe for disaster,” she said with a slight smile.

“You know it, girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll join you as soon as I’ve spoken with Fury.”

“And not a moment later,” Ladybug said before she kissed me gently on the cheek. As she moved back toward the window and readied her yo-yo, she paused. “Be careful,” she said softly.

“I’ll be fine,” I smiled.

“That’s why she’s worried,” Rena chuckled before she followed Ladybug out into the sky.

“How did we get so lucky?” Carapace sighed as he watched his girlfriend follow mine.

“I have no idea,” I replied. “Come on, let’s not keep the Director waiting.”

Nonchalantly, Carapace and I exited the bedroom and located the entrance to the hidden passage we’d used before, a few minutes later, we were down in the pattern vault where we crossed to the trapdoor and then, one-by-one, dropped down onto the catwalk above the butterfly garden in the mausoleum.

There was a buzz of activity below us, mostly centered around the glass casket at the far end. White butterflies were still everywhere, but they seemed muted in the massive quantity of commercial lighting that had been rigged up to illuminate every last square meter of the space. In brilliant resolve, the area felt less like a mausoleum and more like some sort of overgrown indoor greenhouse. 

The tall form of Director Fury turned in a flurry of leather and caught my eye. “_There_ you are,” he said, his voice easily cutting through the space. I tried not to smile at his parroting of Cap’s phrase earlier.

“Sorry,” I said. Feeling a bit frisky, I gripped the railing of the catwalk and vaulted over, landing a few meters from the steps of the dais; Carapace opted for a more traditional route and took the ladder. “But you know cats. Once we get curious, we want to poke our feline noses into every dark nook and cranny.”

Agent Coulson, still nattily attired in a formal suit, was standing close to the Director and smiled at my analogy, but the look on Fury’s face told me he was unimpressed with my antics; I let the pun I had prepped die a silent death as I stood to join the crowd on the raised dais. I knew I was acting a bit over the top – had been since returning to the mansion, in fact – to hide my own anxiety at coming face to face once more with the reality of the glass coffin. Fury had taken a position next to four techs that were engrossed in some very technical looking equipment; data lines connected the consoles they were working to the casket, and though I had a clear line of sight to the displays, had no clue what it was they were looking so intently at.

Director Fury looked at me. “I have to hand it to you, kid. Your group came pretty close to figuring out what this gizmo is doing.”

“We did?”

“Yeah. That horse dude—”

“Pegasus.”

“—was close. _Damn _close. It’s not exactly a stasis chamber, though we can see how he and Spider-Man came to that conclusion. What it is, actually, is far more complex. To put it simply, this is a hyperdimensional zero chamber.”

I blinked. “Like… the one Doctor Who uses?”

“_That_ is fiction,” Fury said, but I could tell there was a quirk at the edge of his mouth that threatened to become a smile. “But if that helps you understand the concept, yes. It exists just outside of time, in an equilibrium of its own making. Whatever is inside the space remains perfectly preserved as of the moment it went in.”

I looked to the peaceful face of my mother. “Is she dead?” I asked flatly.

Fury’s eye went wide. “You get right to the heart of things, don’t you?” His gaze softened a bit. “To be honest, I have some of my best people here and they are not able to crack the field enough to get a solid scan. She could be alive, or barely alive, or just barely dead. We honestly don’t know.” He stepped toward me. “It also means that we don’t know what would happen if we open it. Not here, not under these circumstances.”

I looked back to Fury. “Not here,” I repeated slowly. “But somewhere else?”

Director Fury nodded. “Tony Stark has a research arm in New York. I’ve already spoken with him, and he’s intrigued enough at what we’ve found here to want to take a whack at it.” He paused. “We would need to move her there. And I want to be frank: there is no guarantee we can do anything for her. At all.”

I looked back at the casket again. “But you are willing to try?”

“Yes.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked, turning my masked eyes back to him. “From us? Forgive me for thinking this, but I’m certain you aren’t going to do this out of the kindness of your heart.”

Fury regarded me for a moment. “That’s a pretty cynical view from someone so young.” The side of his mouth quirked a bit more into the smile I thought might appear at long last. “And, as it happens, not entirely inaccurate. Though I am hurt to that you think so poorly of me that I would trade on your mother’s dire circumstances to get something I want.”

It took all of my model training to keep my masked face impassive. “My _friend’s_ mother, I think you meant,” I replied easily.

“Oh,” Director Fury said. “My bad,” he continued as he reached for the tablet the Coulson was holding. Tapping at it for a moment, he then turned the screen toward me. “I guess I was a bit confused, given what our drone caught.”

“Drone?” I asked carefully, willing my tail to remain motionless; my ears, however, had shot straight up, for that sounded suspiciously as though Fury had us under surveillance. 

My masked eyes dropped to the tablet and took in a crystal-clear image of a certain black kitty crawling out the side window of the bakery; tapping at the screen again, the photo shifted to show me joining Ladybug on the rooftop, and then shifted again to show the two of us heading back to the mansion.

I swore internally.

“Imagine my surprise when I saw Chat Noir on the steps above me when I returned to the mansion,” Fury continued. “I know you’re fast – damn fast, for the drone had a hard time keeping up with the two of you – but not fast enough to be in _two places at once_,” he finished quietly.

I looked up at Fury, and knew two things in that moment: first, somehow, they’d still managed to come up with a way to track us, despite Peter’s efforts to hamstring their research. And second, and probably far more critical, was that my identity had been blown; all that was left was to determine how much damage had been inflicted on us, or if I could contain it here and now. 

It also meant my hand was much weaker than I’d thought. 

“How many of us have to identified?” I asked, lowering my voice.

“Just one,” he said, “but as you can imagine, we now have strong suspicions for at least three more.” Fury looked meaningfully at Carapace beside me, and waited for a long moment to let his words sink in.

“I see,” I said icily.

Something in my tone registered on Fury’s face. “We will do whatever it takes to save your mother, Chat. That was a given from the moment you called us in.” He paused again. “I will not, and have no intention of asking you for anything in return; that’s just not how we operate.”

I pointed a claw tip at the tablet. “This feels just a hair to close to blackmail of some kind for my tastes.”

“This?” he smiled finally, holding up the device. “This was more for me to prove a point of a different kind.”

“And what would that be?”

“Peter likely told you we have a unique interest in people such as you and Ladybug,” he started and continued when I nodded. “The two of you came the attention of our unit here in France as you emit a particular energy signature that is close to… another… we’ve been tracking for a while. It’s our usual habit to observe and them make contact when appropriate, but from what we could tell from the outset, the two of you were working _for_ Paris and not against it.” Fury paused for a moment. “I made the call that pulling you in for questioning would do more harm than good, so we kept an eye on you and waited in the wings in case you got over your head.”

“Thanks… I think,” I said rather shortly. “Taking down Hawkmoth was a fulltime gig; as you pointed out yourself, we’re a bunch of _kids_. We could have used a hand.”

“Believe it or not, I have bigger fish to fry than one megalomaniac fashion designer,” Fury replied. “Still, when that strange energy signature popped up in Los Angeles unexpectedly, my team worried it was an escalation – something moving from a local problem to a more global concern.”

“You picked up Hawkmoth.”

“I think so, yes, and the numbers went through the roof when the four of you appeared in Santa Monica. As it turns out, though, even though we weren’t able to take down Hawkmoth at that point – or get better data on whatever creates that energy signature -- it still proved to be a useful exercise.”

“How so?” I crossed my arms and felt my tail tapping; I wasn’t sure where Fury was going and wasn’t appreciating the mini trip down memory lane. Carapace had shifted his position a few times as well, clearly as uncomfortable as I was.

“It gave me a chance to see how your team operated, and whether it could be integrated into anything we might need down the road. Spider-Man also provided a rather glowing analysis as well, not that I’d have taken anything from him at face value,” Fury chuckled. “We found his little act of sabotage – don’t worry,” he continued when I started to say something, “he didn’t betray you, and he’s not in any true trouble – though Tony Stark was _pissed_ and is likely to have that webhead cleaning beakers by hand for a few months.”

“He’s a solid superhero,” I said quickly, feeling defensive of our friend. “Spidey—”

“Relax,” Fury said. “I was already sold before he turned in his report. And don’t get me wrong, it was well reasoned and supported by actual data. That kid is smart.”

“He is,” I agreed. “Where does that leave us, then?” I asked, looking pointedly at the tablet. “You know who I am and suspect the rest. Putting our identities out into the open will effectively end our careers as superheroes.” I looked meaningfully at my mother. “That secret is all that has protected the ones we love from danger,” I added, looking back to Fury.

Fury looked a little taken aback. “You thought--?” he choked. “Dear Lord. You’ve watched too many gangster movies on late night television.”

My masked face frowned. “I don’t understand. If you are not asking a favor, and you’re not going to expose us…”

“Hell, no,” he said firmly. “You’re doing yeoman’s work here in Paris. Frankly, I could us a Team Miraculous in a few more places; no, kid, like it or not, you’re stuck being a superhero. I only want you to know that you’ve got my organization behind you now, _officially_ as it were; and, maybe more importantly, that I am really, _really_ good at keeping secrets.” Fury looked back to the casket. “We’re on the same team, Chat. Or,” he said as he looked at me intently, “we _could_ be.”

I stared at him. “You want us to join S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “It’s sort of an extracurricular group of heroes I keep on standby.”

“Standby? For what?”

Fury looked into space for a moment. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t have them on standby, frankly.” He handed the tablet back to Coulson. “You don’t have to commit right this moment, but I do need your permission to take your mother to New York.”

Stepping down to me, he put a hand on my shoulder. “There is a good chance, son, that she won’t come back. At all. If you don’t want our help, we’ll ensure that this room remains capable of supporting the unit just as it is today. But if you do…”

My feline brain was swimming, and as much as I thought I knew the answer, I also was aware it was not a decision to be made lightly. Sending Ladybug away was starting to look like a truly bad choice. “I’d like time to think about it,” I said. “And talk through it with my friends.”

“As well you should,” Fury nodded. “I can give you about four hours,” he said. “After that, my team needs to get back to New York for another reason.”

I nodded. “I can do that,” I said softly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Chat,” he said.

I nodded again as I turned away, only vaguely aware that Carapace was right behind me; right or wrong, it felt like my answers were waiting for me back at the hospital. I furvently knew I needed the calm, expert guidance only Ladybug would be able to give me. For once, it truly was a matter of a chance for life, or something that looked a lot like death.

And I was scared to my core about making the wrong call.


	80. Endings and Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _With the support of Ladybug and his other friends, Chat makes a tough choice, hoping it starts him down the path toward healing and a future he’d never expected._

The early evening chill of late January reminded me that winter still had a firm grip on Paris; the icy air smelled of the coming frost as soon as the sun had cozily sunk into the horizon. Thankful once more for the toasty comfort of my costume – and the rubbery soles of my boots that provided needed traction against the freezing rooftops – I still found myself chilled internally by the choice that I was facing. Fury had given me four hours – _four!_ – to decide whether my mother remained in Paris, likely comatose forever, or went to New York, where she might live. Or die. Or still remain in a coma.

Considering the sorts of decisions a teenager such as myself would normally make, it seemed to be a ten on the difficulty scale.

Adding to my inner turmoil was the very real fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. knew who I was, and likely had guessed the identities of the rest of Team Miraculous. While it wasn’t _exactly_ my fault it had happened, I _had_ been the one to invite my friends to Santa Monica, the watershed event likely giving Fury the data he’d needed all along. I felt as responsible as if I had announced it from the rooftops of Paris myself.

Carapace was trailing me at a respectful distance, perhaps picking up on my sour mood and more than unusual lack of conversation. I could still feel the moral support from my friend, though, and for that I was immeasurably grateful. It was also something of a role reversal for my best friend, given how I’d been the one quietly supporting him as he found his way as Carapace; having him with me took a bit of the edge off of my emotions.

Our nearly noiseless movements along the highway in the sky didn’t mask the sounds of the city as it readied itself for the dinner hour; here and there, my feline nose picked up savory scents that allowed my stomach to observe it had been many hours since Sabine had fed me a freshly baked croissant. I was hoping the traffic in the bakery was busy enough that they wouldn’t notice Adrien had taken a really, _really_ long nap -- I was hoping even more they’d not grown concerned enough at my absence to check on me. Still, it was worth the risk to finally check in on Spidey.

That, perhaps, was the overwhelming guilt pressing against my soul, for there was no way I not to feel responsible for his presence in the hospital. I’d been the one to involve him in the first place, not Ladybug; while he might have willingly agreed, it was hard not to think in retrospect I’d undersold the danger of running up against Hawkmoth. He’d been so sure of himself though, and compared to us, had _seen_ so much more, I’d convinced myself it was a low risk proposition.

The result of that miscalculation had landed Spider-Man in an ICU bed of the building I was just then approaching.

Circling, I carefully dropped down to perch along the slightly raised brick running along the edge of the roof; Carapace landed a few meters away from me on the pebbled rooftop proper. As I slid my baton home, Carapace leaned against the wall surrounding the stairwell. “I’ll wait here,” he said quietly. 

I nodded as I slid off the edge and put my hand to his shoulder. “Thanks. For… everything.”

“Anytime, dude.”

Rena met me at the door to Peter’s ICU room, smiling fondly as she quietly slipped out of the cramped space. Ladybug was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, and I took up position on the side opposite, glancing at the monitors as I settled in and having zero idea what any of it meant. Looking down, Peter’s pale face was barely visible around the ventilator they’d put him on; leads ran from sensors on what bare chest was exposed to the edge of the bed, commingling with the IV lines running into the arm closest to me. Most of his lower torso was hidden beneath a wide swath of bandages, making him seem frail despite the clearly delineated muscles peeking around them.

I’d seen him briefly before making my call to Fury, of course, but for some reason I’d expected something different. Even just sleeping peacefully would have been better than seeing him hooked up like a Christmas tree and breathing so mechanically as to make me wonder yet again if I’d gotten him help too late. The analogy to my mother and the glass coffin was unavoidable.

“I thought he was awake,” was the first thing I thought to say after nearly thirty minutes of silence.

Ladybug kept her voice low, though I was certain Peter wouldn’t wake for some reason. “He was, but the Doctor said it was brief and they put him back into an induced coma. But his vitals are solid, and if he keeps improving, they’ll wake him and pull him off the machine pretty much any time between now and tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow…” I said softly. “Wow.”

So much had happened in such a short period that I knew I was bordering on multiple forms of exhaustion – physical, mental, emotional. My masked visage looked up from Spider-Man to my girlfriend. “This is my fault,” I said softly, the tears I’d managed to keep at bay for days now pricking at my feline eyes. 

Ladybug came around to my side of the bed and pulled me into a hug. “No,” she said, “it’s not. If there is anyone responsible, it’s Hawkmoth.”

“And Mayura,” I added darkly as I wiped at an eye with a paw, unsuccessfully trying to clear my blurring vision. “I will never understand why they did what they did. To him. To us.”

“Can’t we, though?” Ladybug asked quietly. “Haven’t we also wrestled with the same choices when it comes to what to do with your mother?”

“Using the Wish was _never_ on my list,” I said fiercely, wiping again at an eye. “No matter how much I want to have her back. It’s not the right call.”

“I know, Chat,” Ladybug nodded. “Given that Master Fu hasn’t figured out exactly how we could work the Wish without the payment being worse than the cure, you’re not wrong.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m making the wrong choice?” I said, my voice choking slightly. 

“Nothing is easy about our path forward,” she said softly. “I think we’ve been dragged directly into adulthood here, kitty. No choice is black and white, and everything comes with a cost. Maybe, at the end of the day, that is the real point of the Wish,” she added. “To remind us there is _always_ a cost to our decisions. Fortunately, not all of them are as dramatic as what the magic of the Wish threatens.”

“Decisions,” I said, voice catching again. “I have a big one and… and I don’t think I can make it alone.”

Glancing to Peter on the bed, Ladybug looked back at me. “I think we might need a change of scene,” she said softly as she ran a hand down my arm. “Give me a moment to get Rena and Carapace down here.”

My eyes flicked to Peter. “Milady—”

“If anything changes, they’ll let us know straightaway,” she said as she pulled her bug phone out. “And we’ll come right back.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

* * *

“So that is what it boils down to,” I finished, waving my paws as I continued to pace the small but ornamental rooftop Ladybug had found not far from the hospital. It wasn’t one I’d landed on before – at least, not one I remembered, anyway – but it had an unusual angle on the distant form of Notre Dame. Still shrouded in construction scaffolding, it had the feel of having been stripped bare; I could appreciate that as the emotions within my soul continued to pound away at me. “On the one paw, it’s essentially status quo and I leave her in the basement forever. On the other, I send her to New York and hope for a better outcome that might not happen.”

Pausing at the edge of the short strip of polished flagstone, I leaned against the wrought iron railing and hung my mane over the edge, masked eyes taking in the few pedestrians below blithely unaware the Heroes of Paris were in a meeting six stories above them. “And then there is the little matter of my blown identity.” I twisted sideways to look at Ladybug. “I’m not sure how much I trust Fury, but Peter seems to respect him. Still,” I continued, feeling that lump in my throat as I finally put words to what I’d been considering, “I’d understand if you asked me to step down.”

“It’s not just _your_ identity, though,” she replied from where she was sitting atop a skylight beside a small wicker basket from the Bakery. It was a nod to the massive growl that had issued from my stomach as we’d left the hospital; though I’d appreciated the effort (and the tactical side trip where Marinette had “found” Adrien still asleep in his room), I’d not had more than a bite or two of the savory chili Sabine had packed for us. “Fury is pretty smart, and he’s got a ton of brilliant people working for him. I have to believe they’ve got a better than average guess as to the rest of us.”

I sighed heavily. “Then I’ve destroyed your team.”

“_Our_ team, kitty,” she reminded me. “We’re in this together, remember?”

I nodded as I looked back at the cathedral. The spotlights had not been turned back on yet, so it sort of just hulked there in the gathering dusk, mirroring my mood.

“Let’s come back to that,” she said. “The more pressing issue at hand is to give Fury an answer.”

“I honestly don’t know what to do,” I sighed again as I turned and leaned against the railing, folding my arms against my costumed chest. “Neither option seems good. I… I don’t want to doom her.”

Ladybug slid off the skylight and came closer. “We’ve not talked about this, but have you considered your mother was a… willing participant, shall we say, in whatever your father was up to?”

Something clicked deep inside. “Yes,” I said softly. “I have. But I cannot believe it was nefarious – not like what Gabriel has done as Hawkmoth.”

Ladybug took a step closer. “Given how he managed to hide his efforts from you, Chat, you have to at least consider the possibility that this has been going on longer than we know. From what Master Fu has told us, the two Miraculous in the possession of your father had been missing for quite some time. Without asking your father, we don’t know how long he’d had them. It could have been years.”

I looked at Ladybug. “My mother wouldn’t have done anything---”

“I’m not saying she did, Chat. I just want to put a slightly different frame around your decision. For you to consider the possibility that she _knew_ what she was doing would have consequences – much as your decision here, today, on this rooftop will.”

I frowned. “I’m… not sure that helps,” I replied.

“Doesn’t it?” she smiled sadly. “We all make choices. Everyday. Each time we do, we set ourselves on a path to make other choices, other decisions that further adjust our way through life.” She looked at me as she reached a hand to the side of my face. “You made just such a choice when you opened the box Master Fu left you, just as I did. There’s a direct line from that moment to the two of us being here, right now, figuring this out _together_.”

Putting a paw against her hand, I leaned in slightly and closed my eyes for a moment.

“There will be consequences either way,” Ladybug counseled as I took a deep breath and picked up the unique notes of her scent in the process. Oddly, they seemed to have a calming influence on me, far more than normal. “That’s part of living. Part of being human. Is there a wrong choice?” she asked as she pulled her hand away and I reopened my masked eyes to fasten them on her. “Probably,” she continued. “I’d posit the glass casket is a possible example of that.”

I sighed again. “I think I am constitutionally indisposed to think she did anything bad _willingly_.”

“I can understand that.”

“But she might have,” I finally admitted to myself.

“It’s just as likely she stood up to your father, too. That is a choice just as valid as any other, Chat,” Ladybug replied. “It also makes it possible she got hurt in the process.” She paused again, pulling my paw back into her hand to give a quick squeeze. “We just won’t know until she is revived.”

“What are you saying, exactly?” I asked, though there was a tickle of recognition at the back of my fur brain.

“Even _good_ decisions can turn out poorly,” she said even more softly, “and that fear of _making_ a decision based on an unknown outcome is not a solid plan.” She looked at me with love in those deep blue eyes. “We’ve never operated like that before, have we?” she asked quietly. “For if we did, we’d never get the courage to don these costumes and do what is _right_ each and every day.”

I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed the back of her hand softly. “Courage,” I smiled slightly.

“Not something you lack, kitty,” Ladybug smiled back. “Look deep inside your heart. I think you know what you want to do; listen to yourself and don’t overthink it.” She smiled wider. “Whatever you decide will the _right_, and I’ll have your back just as you’ve always had mine.”

Something about her firm, calm, gentle support – regardless of what I might do – settled finally the turbulent ocean of emotions inside my soul. Slowly I started to nod, and then pulled her into my arms for a warm hug. “Thank you,” I said as I buried my nose in her raven hair. 

“Anytime,” she replied softly as she pulled away from me. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Are you kidding?” I chuckled, feeling a tiny bit of normalcy for the first time in a while. “I don’t want to be anywhere but by your side.” 

* * *

For some reason, I found it easier to perch along the rooftop of the mansion to watch the strange jet-thing as it lifted off from the circular drive. Ladybug was beside me, peering into the darkness of the evening before squinting at the sudden flare of the engines bursting to life. Slowly it rose into the air, turning slightly as it gained altitude before slipping above the rooftops and swiftly moving to the horizon. My feline eyes traced it as far as my enhanced vision would allow, and then waited a few moments longer before turning to Ladybug.

“I have hope,” I said softly. “I fervently wish it’s not misguided.”

“If anything can be done for your mother,” Ladybug replied as she looped her arm under mine, “she’s now in the hands of people who are best positioned to do it.”

“I made the right decision?” I asked, a slight note of concern in my voice.

“I think, what came before you knew her situation – everything we have been through, together – helped build to this point. To making the best possible decision you could.” She smiled at me. “And for the record, yes, I think you made the right decision. The real question, of course, is whether _you_ think you did.”

She leaned her head against me, and I pulled her closer, pensive for a moment. For in a moment of clarity, I realized that while what came before that moment _had_ been important, how I used that experience to shape my future – not _just_ as Chat, but also as Adrien Agreste, heir to House of Gabriel – would determine whether any of it had been worth it.

Deep in my heart, I finally found my answer.

“Yes,” I said softly. “I think I did.”

We sat there for a while, each lost in our thoughts. For my own part, I wondered what would come _after_, knowing this moment in time would forever be etched as a waypoint in my life. “What do we do now?” I asked after a bit.

“Take a deep breath,” Ladybug said. “Enjoy the moment we have without a Hawkmoth in our lives.”

“There will be another,” I said, somehow feeling the truth in my bones.

“And we’ll be ready when there is.” 

My baton buzzed at that moment and I slid it out; to my surprise, an unexpected face appeared on the small screen. “Chat? Did I miss all of the excitement?”

“No,” I said as I stood, my heart filling with pure joy. “Not at all, Peter. Ladybug and I are on our way over now, we’ll fill you in.”

“Oh good,” Peter Parker replied, his face still pallid and looking as though he could still use more rest. “Because these two critters here won’t say a thing.”

There was a muffled _Hey!_ in the background that made me smile. “They just didn’t want to spoil the story.”

“Whatever,” he smiled. “See you in a bit,” he said as the screen winked out.

“That,” I said as I turned to Ladybug, “is about the best ending to this whole thing as I could have hoped for.”

“Really?” Ladybug smiled mischievously. “What about going home with the girl of your dreams?”

“Okay,” I laughed. “Maybe the _second_ best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And with that, we come to the close of _What Came Before He Knew Her_. _
> 
> _I have to admit, I didn’t originally plan for what began as a loosely coupled set of one-shots to grow to eighty chapters, but the version of Chat and Ladybug that developed out of it were too good not to continue writing about and to be honest, some version of these two will appear once more in the finale to my Elegy Series, from which they were stolen in the first place---_
> 
> _Wait, why the long face? _
> 
> _Did you think--? _
> 
> _Oh no, dear reader, you’re not getting off the hook _that_ easily. I just said I was done with the core of the WCBHKH story, not these two. _
> 
> _Starting next week, look for _After_, which will continue this adventure as Chat and Ladybug navigate this brave new post-Hawkmoth world – or, what they _think_ is a post-Hawkmoth world. There are still many themes and stories I’ve not yet had a chance to dive into, so I hope you’ll join me over on the new story as it gets going. _
> 
> _Other new stuff will also appear – my WIP folder is full of items, I assure you – so you won’t be disappointed if you just go ahead and bookmark me right now so as not to miss anything as they arrive. _
> 
> _As always, my heartfelt thanks for being with me for this story! I look forward to seeing you visit some of my other works in the future._
> 
> _\--ep _


End file.
